I don't want to talk about it
by CCKK12
Summary: Superheroes don't need therapy. Their job is to save the world. They sure can handle everything they have to face in the aftermath… right? What happens when they are required to spend one hour every week with a psychologist? Is it a total waste of time?
1. Stella - Natasha I

**I don't own the characters, only the ones I created.**

 **According to the plan every chapter will deal with one character and one therapy session. The characters will probably return so we can see if/how they progress. I plan some scenes out of the therapy as well to get to know a little more about the therapist.**

 **I love Clintasha, so Clint has no family in this one, even though I am not sure about the nature of their relationship. Also, Coulson is alive (for fun).**

 **English is not my native language, so thanks for bearing with me :)**

* * *

 **Name: Stella Moon**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: March 12, 1990**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Psychologist**

 **Family status: Single**

It is not an easy job. Not long after the foundation of the Avengers it became painfully obvious that the members of the team did not cope well with the stress of the job. I don't exactly know what happened before I was employed, but there were rumours about a conference room in the need of restoration. So now every one of them was required to spend an hour on therapy with me every week, even Fury. The reactions were quite diverse, to say the least.

As for me, I knew it was not easy when I started to work with them. The salary was great and the job came with huge benefits and also challenges. To give up my personal life did not seem too big of a sacrifice for the moment. I never quite succeeded at the field of romantic relationships after all, and I was fine with that. It was probably still better than in some of my new patients' cases.

 **File ID: 90452 - two weeks after the battle of NY**

 **Name: Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: November 22, 1984**

 **Place of birth: Soviet Union**

 **Citizenship: Soviet, Russian, American**

 **Occupation: Spy**

 **Family status: Single (?) (note: the question made the patient snicker)**

"Thank you for taking the time to see me. I know how busy you are," I start as I sit down in my armchair.

Natasha sits across me on the sofa with her legs crossed under her. She shrugs. "It wasn't exactly my decision, Miss Moon. There were indications that I shall show up here every Monday at 12am if I want to keep this job."

"Well, I am still glad to see you cooperate. There was a session with the patient brought in by two agents. Then they waited at the door for us to finish."

She smiles at that. "Thor?"

"Tony," I respond. At her laughter I add, "don't tell anyone, please."

She presses her thumb and index finger together and drags them across her lips. "I can keep one more secret."

I nod. "How are you, Natasha?"

"Today or in general?"

"Let's start with today. Busy day?"

"I'm fine. I only got one training for today. With Steve."

"Are you worried about it?"

She smirks at me. "Not really. He still doesn't like beating up women."

"What about in general? Do you have something you want to share with me?" I ask.

"Why, so you can report it back to the boss?"

I shake my head. "Absolutely not. Nothing gets out of here. I'm bound by the obligation of confidentiality."

"There are no secrets here," Natasha replies.

I sigh. I didn't have the illusion that I would have an easy job with Natasha, but I guess I still had a ray of hope about it. Not anymore. I decide to change strategy. "Speaking of which, I've heard you had a brawl with agent Barton. Did you get that from him?" I ask glancing at a bruise on her neck, the kind that looks like a hickey but could be also caused by a punch.

She shrugs but does not answer. "Do you have sexual relationship with agent Barton?" I prod.

This time her eyes flash savagely when she looks at me. "What does this have to do with my job?" she asks.

"You must know that human relationships always influence an agent's performance."

She sighs. "No, I do not."

"As of now?" I can see her grit her teeth.

"I have never had any kind of relationship with agent Barton. If you want to know if I slept with him, yes, of course I did. But not recently."

I'm surprised at the natural tone she uses to say she got intimate with her colleague, but I move on quickly. "Why?" I ask simply.

"Why did I sleep with him?" I nod. She does not answer.

"Natasha," I start slowly. "You use sex. I've read the reports. Everyone knows that you are the one to get sent on missions where someone needs to be seduced. Have you ever had a relationship with a man or woman in which sex didn't come with a price? When you did it because you wanted it and you liked it?"

She looks at me for a long minute and then curses in Russian. "I do not want to talk about sex."

"What would you rather talk about? Your friendship with agent Barton?" She shifts in her seat.

"That's not a friendship."

"How would you describe your relationship then?"

"You didn't pay attention, Miss Moon. I said we don't have any relationship."

"I know what you said, Natasha. But two colleagues always have some kind of relationship."

"He's my partner."

"Do you trust him?"

She shakes her head. "I do not trust anyone."

"Why?"

"Because nobody gave me a reason to."

"More than one of the Avengers saved your life in the past."

"Because it is their job."

It doesn't seem the right direction. I decide to return to the previous topic. "Should we expect another brawl between you and agent Barton in the near future?"

"Oh, not today, no," she replies with an almost sweet smile. She obviously enjoys my struggle.

"What did you fight about?"

"We didn't fight. We just had a brawl."

"Why?"

She clicks her tongue in irritation. "Why do you keep asking me that? Why I slept with Clint, why I brawled with Clint, what my friendship with Clint is like? It's enough. I don't want to talk to you about Clint. It's our business if I shag him, if I break his nose, if we go for a drink. His business and mine. Not yours, not Fury's, not Coulson's."

I take a deep breath. "You are right. But I am not here to pry into your personal life. I am here to help you."

"Help me with what?"

"Help you process things."

"I don't have anything to process."

"Does that mean we can talk about New York?"

She nods slowly. "We can. But you'd better not ask how it felt to see Clint murder our men."

"How did it feel to see the city collapse around you?"

Natasha looks at me blankly. "It felt like a Tuesday afternoon."

"How did it feel knowing Tony Stark is about to die? When you closed that hole anyway?"

"What do you want to hear, Miss Moon? That it was terrible? Do you want confirmation that I have emotions? I don't. I was thirteen when I killed for the first time. Emotions are for children. Look at what happens to those who do have them. Thor should have killed Loki, but he didn't. Stark makes mistakes one after the other. Steve still didn't manage to get over that getting-frozen story, though he should be happy he's alive."

"What about agent Barton?"

Natasha gives me a warning glare and stands up. "It is enough for today, Miss Moon."

I nod. She is probably right. I stand as well and stretch out my arm to shake her hand. "Well, thank you for your cooperation. I will see you next week."

She doesn't accept my hand. She turns around and leaves my room without saying goodbye.


	2. Tony I

**File ID: 81300 - 10 days after the battle of NY**

 **Name: Anthony Edward Stark/Iron Man**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: May 05, 1970**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: CEO, Stark Industries, Consultant, SHIELD**

 **Family status: In a relationship (note: patient added: "I guess so")**

Tony Stark does not arrive to my room alone. He is followed by two agents and as soon as he sits down on the sofa he pulls out his phone.

"Am I bothering?" I ask. He hums scrolling on the phone. "Tony-"

"Look, ma'am. I don't need this," he finally says without lifting his gaze from the screen.

"That is not your decision, Tony," I reply. "Everyone has to see me. This therapy isn't optional." I pause. "Are you afraid of the things we might discover if you talk to me?" I ask. Hearing the question Tony sets the phone next to him on the sofa with a huff.

"Stella Moon, is that right?" I nod. "Can I call you Stella?"

"As you prefer."

"So Stella, I want you to know that I am not afraid of anything. Especially not of this sofa and a little girl who majored in a pseudo science only because she didn't have a better idea." I wait silently while I look into his eyes. He turns his gaze away first. I don't take offence to what he said - it's not the first time I hear it, and damn sure it's not the last.

"Are you sure? Just because two agents are still guarding my door in case you want to leave too early." It is easy to see he wants to retort, but he remains silent. I look at him with a neutrally polite smile.

"Tell me about yourself, Tony. How are you these days?"

He sighs in irritation. "I'm fine. Working on new suits. And I continue the trainings."

"Already? Shouldn't you rest a bit more?"

"Why should I? Because I fell from space?"

I nod. "For example, yes."

"It's okay. The doc said I'm alright."

"And Pepper doesn't mind?"

He frowns. "How does Pepper come into this conversation?"

"Are you not together?"

"I didn't know you were going to question me about my girlfriend. I wouldn't have come if I did."

"You didn't quite come here, Tony. You were brought in." I pause. "Do you not want to talk about Pepper?"

"Only if you tell me about your boyfriend." I raise my eyebrow. "What?" Tony asks smiling, "you don't like intimate questions?"

"It's not about that," I respond. "But I don't have a boyfriend." At that Tony looks over me with a gaze that Miss Potts certainly would not like. I know he is doing it to embarrass me, but I do hope I don't blush. There is something in Tony Stark that is impossible to resist.

"Oh really? How come?"

"I don't have time for dating and I am yet to find a man I can put up with for more than six months."

Before he could answer, I go on. "You are basically the most famous Avenger. It must be a burden."

"Oh, no. No, the most famous one is Captain America. Patron saint of our country. Ask Perfect Rogers how big of a burden it is."

"Are you bothered by the fact that Steve Rogers draws some of the attention to himself?"

"I'm bothered by the fact that he lacks the basis to do so," Tony admits. "I designed everything for myself. I built Iron Man from nothing. But Steve? Steve got a shield from my father and a vial of strength, that's all. I can fly right into a murderous alien horde with a rocket on my shoulders, but he whirls that stupid shield and everyone sees only him." He falls silent. He seems rather flustered.

"Do you have conflicts? Arguments?"

He chuckles. "You should ask if we ever have periods when we are not arguing. The Cap knows everything and knows everything better."

"What about the other team members? I've heard you spend quite a lot of time with Mr Banner."

"Banner understands what I talk about. Feels nice."

"What about Pepper?"

Tony rolls his eyes. "I really don't get it. Why are you fixated on Pepper? She is not a physicist. Pepper is a businesswoman."

"But does she understand you?" He thinks for a moment.

"Yes. She does. Pepper is wonderful, really. And the most wonderful thing about her is that she tolerates me."

"Is it hard? To tolerate you?"

"What else could it mean that even Captain Kindness is unable to?" The remark makes me smile which he obviously takes as encouragement. He relaxes on the sofa.

"Are you happy, Tony?" I finally ask.

Long moments pass before he replies. "Course I am." He lies, but I let him.

"How did it feel to sacrifice your life in the battle?" I attempt to switch the topic.

"I don't know," he shrugs. "Millions would have died if I hadn't done it. I didn't have a choice."

I raise my eyebrow. "Is that so?" He doesn't answer. "Don't you think that the reason behind these conflicts with Steve is that you and he are the same?" He stares at me and then laughs again.

"This is ridiculous."

"You both have an intrinsic need to save everyone around you. Both of you know everything and know everything better. You both want to make the world a better place while fighting off your own demons. You both have suffered great losses."

As I speak he gets more and more sullen. "As I said, this is ridiculous," he claims. "The only thing we have in common is that my father was his too."

"What do you mean?" He rolls his eyes.

"You know what I mean, Stella. During my childhood I kept hearing about Steve. Mostly from my own father. About how strong and intelligent and brave and generous he was. How do you think it was to grow up seeing that the one person you look up to looks up higher worshipping the local hero?"

"It must have been hard."

"It was."

"Are you mad at him?"

"At Steve? It goes without saying."

"At your father."

He stops to think again. "No. He did what he thought was right."

"Was he a good father?"

"A marvellous father to Captain America," Tony responded. "Now listen, ever since you said you don't have a boyfriend I've been thinking about why you haven't found anyone."

I let him control the discussion - or let him think he does. "Well, they say psychologists choose this profession to heal themselves. Maybe I have issues," I answer with a smirk.

"Oh is that so? It's getting exciting."

I smile and lower my notepad. "I hate to have to interrupt the session right now," I say standing up. "We'll take it up next week from here."

"Come on. You just started to open up," Tony whines. He stands up reluctantly and shakes my hand.

"I'll see you next week."

"Right." Perhaps next time we can do it without the agents, I muse, but I would not bet on it yet.


	3. Clint I

**File ID: 72311 - 16 days after the battle of NY**

 **Name: Clinton Francis Barton/Hawkeye**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: January 07, 1971**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Agent of SHIELD**

 **Family status: No comment (note: info from T.S.: single)**

Clint Barton waits for me in the corridor when I arrive to my office with my morning coffee. I smile at him and reach my hand out. "Agent Barton? Nice to meet you, I'm Stella Moon. Do you mind if I finish this?" I ask.

Clint smiles at me and shakes my hand confidently. "Of course not, Miss Moon." We take our seats in the room and I set my coffee on the small table between us.

"You are perfectly on time. Do you have a reason to be?"

He shrugs. "I was at the shooting range. I just finished, I thought if we start a bit earlier, I might have time to go back to bed."

"Didn't you have enough sleep last night?"

"Didn't have a good sleep," he corrects. As I remain silent, he adds, "nightmares."

"Are they frequent?"

"Recently yes."

"What are they about?" He doesn't respond, instead he drops his gaze to his intertwined fingers in his lap. "About the battle? Or what happened before?" He sighs.

"The others told me that you don't quite beat around the bush."

"I don't think it's part of my job requirements." He looks at me with a smirk but as he starts speaking, his tone is serious.

"You see, Miss Moon, I probably killed about 10-20 of our men. Nobody tells me the exact number. It's natural if I dream about them, right?" The question started as a statement, but at the end of it Clint seems rather worried. Is his mental state progressing in the right way? Is he coping well?

"Absolutely natural," I comfort him. "Does it bother you that you don't know the precise number?"

"Yes," he replies without hesitation. "They say it was not my fault. That I should not think about it at all. But if it truly wasn't my fault, why don't they treat me equally?"

"How do they treat you?"

"As if I were some fragile kid who can't take the truth."

"Do you feel they are not honest with you?"

"It's not a feeling. They are quite straightforward about hiding the details of that… incident from me."

"If it had happened to someone else, would you give them the exact number?" He thinks for a moment.

"To Banner, no, he probably couldn't take it. Neither to Stark. To Steve, perhaps. I would give it to Thor right away though. He is a god. He doesn't concern himself with human suffering." I wait but he doesn't continue the list. I have to ask directly.

"What about agent Romanoff?" He laughs at the question but without any mirth.

"Agent Romanoff has her own methods to coax information out of people. My intention would not matter in that case."

"Does she do it to you?"

"Do what?" he asks back. He stalls for time.

"Does she manipulate you? Has she ever?" He gives the same mirthless snicker, shaking his head.

"It is her hobby."

I sip my coffee letting him alone with his thoughts for a little while. "How would you describe your relationship with agent Romanoff?"

I can see he expected the question. "We're friends."

"How long have you been working together?"

"Ten years or so."

"I've read you saved her life." He shrugs. "According to your files you always executed your orders perfectly until that point. You received one to eliminate Black Widow and you refused to complete the mission."

"That's correct," he answers simply.

"Why?"

"Because she was just a kid."

"A trained assassin."

"Who never had the chance to choose a different path. I gave it to her." It is tempting to ask him if he did it just out of human kindness or it was the first time right there that Natasha manipulated him, but I refrain from it.

"Do you ever think you made a mistake that time?"

I enraged him if his cold glance is any indication. "Nat saved my life just as many times as I did hers. And she is one I can trust. I wouldn't do it any differently."

"You had a brawl with her a couple of days ago."

He raises his eyebrow. "So?"

"Do you do it often?"

"Often enough." Barton is the more communicative of the two, so it must mean something that I cannot get him talk about the brawl. It intrigues me further, although it is not necessarily my professional curiosity.

"When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?" I switch the topic.

"I don't know, when I was five?" He replies shrugging.

I take a deep breath. "I'm asking because if sleep deprivation causes you problems, you might need medication."

He hisses sharply. "Not a chance."

"Clint-"

"Not. A. Chance," he repeats almost threateningly.

"Your colleagues don't have to know about it if you don't want them to. Every doctor who works here needs to respect the the obligation of confidentiality." He obviously expected me to drop the topic after the tone he used and now he rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"No. You certainly know that we live under constant threat here. If anything should happen it is imperative that I react immediately. We have to be prepared at all times."

"It must be exhausting."

"It is."

I try to turn it around. "But don't you think that you being constantly sleep deprived carries a significant risk as well?"

"I am used to it. To be honest none of us sleep well."

"Alright." I pause. After some moments he nods. He seems relieved. "Can we talk about New York?"

"What do you want to know?"

"I'd like to talk about the way you felt during the battle."

He raises an eyebrow. "This question makes no sense, Miss Moon. No sense at all. This is my job. Should it touch me?"

"Not necessarily. It doesn't?"

"No. It does not." It seems his answers turn less and less honest. He feeds them to me to distract me from having a real discussion with him. I put my pen and notepad on the coffee table.

"Well, that would be it for today then. Thank you for your time."

"So we're done?" he asks as we stand up and shake hands.

"Yes. I'll see you next week."

"Oh." The realisation makes him frown. "I just thought-"

"No, you have to show up every week," I interrupt. "I hope it is not a problem for you?"

"Of course not."


	4. Stella - Bruce I

**Hi everyone, thanks for the interest in the story so far :)**

 **I couldn't really let go of that brawl nobody wants to talk about, so Stella digs deeper in this chapter.**

 **There will also be a short therapy session with Banner.**

* * *

 **Incident Report ID 4301**

 **Summary: agents N.R. and C.B. found in office 302 on the top of the round table**

 **Agent C.B. missing his shirt**

 **Suspicion of physical assault and/or indecent behaviour**

 **Present at the enquiry: Fury, Nicholas, Coulson, Phillip,**

 **Romanoff, Natasha, Barton, Clinton**

 **N.F.** I have to say I am starting to doubt it is worth to keep you two on the team. I keep wasting my time on this kind of hearings. Let's get it over with quickly. What happened?

 **N.R.** A misunderstanding, sir. We resolved it.

 **C.B.** It won't happen again, sir.

 **N.F.** Coulson, do you recall what agent Romanoff and agent Barton said the last time we found them in the same position?

 **P.C.** Something about a misunderstanding that won't happen again, sir.

 **N.F.** That's right. So I'll ask again. What happened in there? What was the source of the conflict that you decided to resolve the usual way?

 **N.R.** Different opinions on certain professional matters.

 **N.F.** Elaborate.

 **C.B.** Ladybug here doesn't know that she doesn't always need to get into bed with her targets.

 **N.F.** Are you serious?

 **C.B.** Absolutely, sir. She kept me waiting for four hours before-

 **N.R.** Two hours, and if you call me _ladybug_ again-

 **N.F.** When did this happen?

 **N.R.** At the mission in Bogotá.

 **P.C.** Three years ago, sir.

 **N.F.** Do I have to replace the table in 302 over some…

" _Miss Moon._ " As I look up from the file, I see agent Hill with a curious and at the same time reprimanding expression. "What are you doing here?"

I close the folder. "I thought checking on some past conflicts would help me understand my patients," I say as confidently as I can, as if I weren't hiding in a secluded corner of the archives just before 5am. "Neither of them told me anything, so…"

Hill taps her foot on the ground impatiently. "You can only come here with a special permission from Director Fury." I wait a little trying to pretend I didn't know that before I nod.

"I'm sorry. I'll just go back to my room." She nods in approval. When she turns to leave, I open the folder again.

 **N.F.** Do I have to replace the table in 302 over some jealous fight you had about a mission from three years ago?

 **C.B.** It's about tactics and consideration towards your partner, sir.

 **N.R.** This is ridiculous and you know it, Barton. It was about…

" _Miss Moon._ " Hill's voice comes from the door this time that I suppose she holds open for me just to be sure I leave the archives.

"Coming," I call back dropping the folder back in the drawer full of similar folders and files under the name "N.R. & C.B."

* * *

 **File ID: 64220 - 17 days after the battle of NY**

 **Name: Robert Bruce Banner/Hulk**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: December 18, 1969**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Physicist**

 **Family status: Single (note: patient laughed at the question)**

"Is everything alright, Bruce?" I ask as I watch Banner squirm on the sofa. He smiles at me tentatively.

"Yes, I just… Miss Moon, don't get me wrong, I would like this to go as smoothly as possible, but are you safe? We are in a closed room." He hesitates before adding, "and I might get angry."

"Don't worry, Bruce. Look, see this?" I ask indicating a red button on the inner side of the arm of my armchair. "If I press this, the sofa you're sitting on will engulf you, so to speak. And a lot of agents will barge in this room. With guns." He nods and tries to relax against the back of the sofa.

"Let's hope it's enough."

"But I don't think we'll need such measures, honestly. I don't mean to upset you in any way. I just want to talk."

He nods slowly and I start with the session. "How are you, Bruce?"

He looks at me as if trying to decide if I was joking. "Great," he says. "Great." He rubs his palms together. "I am not sure, you did get the memo about me being a giant green monster, right?"

I press my lips together. "I might have heard something about it," I respond. "But the battle of New York showed it can be a good thing, didn't it?"

He huffs. "People are hysterical. We demolished Manhattan."

"And saved it successfully in the process."

"That's the part they don't really talk about."

"Well, now we can talk about it. You are heroes now. How does that feel?"

He shrugs. "I don't feel like a hero. I just want to do my job."

"Which would be?"

"Helping people, I suppose." He looks tired and somewhat annoyed, even.

"Do you think you're wasting your time here?" I ask.

"We all do," Bruce answers. "Don't get me wrong, I think therapy has its positive effects, but we are in way too deep. We all have so many issues that it must be a huge work for you to do this and still, you barely scratch the surface."

I remember my adventure in the archives. He's right. "Think of it as one hour to talk freely about whatever you want to."

"Whatever?" he repeats. "You won't ask about the accident or about the battle?"

"Not if you don't want me to. We can talk about anything. Your job, your newest researches, the last time Tony frustrated you. Anything, really."

"What about you?" he asks thoughtfully. "Can we talk about you too?"

I nod. "If you wish. Although I am not sure what you could be possibly curious about."

"Your name." I raise my eyebrow. " _Stella_ means star, doesn't it?"

"Exactly. My parents probably were in a funny mood." He smirks a little but then his expression turns serious again.

"How did you end up here, Miss Moon? Everyone with an ounce of common sense should avoid moving in with us."

"Why are you saying that?"

"Look at us. It's a group of people with skills and powers they can barely control and too much self confidence."

"Are you worried about your colleagues, Bruce?"

"Of course I am," he shrugs. "They think- we think we are able to prevent any disaster. It makes us an easy target. Then add to the mix the issues we all have, and you get a catastrophe hanging above our heads." He looks back at me. "So, why are you here?"

As I promised him to talk about myself, I have to reply. "It seemed like a good opportunity. Professionally. And then, I was bored. Living with my parents did no good to our relationship and I didn't want to search something else. I do enjoy psychology, but only with interesting patients."

"That we are I imagine."

I smile and nod. "Definitely." I glance at the clock. "I suppose you have your work to get back to." I didn't think Banner would be harder to talk to than Romanoff or Stark, but it does seem so. We'd better stop this session before he gets to know much more about me than I do about him.

He seems relieved to be let go, although he can probably guess why. I am glad I have a week now to figure out how to handle him better next time.


	5. Steve I

**File ID: 58113 - 17 days after the battle of NY**

 **Name: Steven Grant Rogers/Captain America**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: July 4, 1918**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Soldier**

 **Family status: Single**

Steve lies down on the sofa. He is the first one doing it which surprises me. He seemed shyer than that. He looks at me sideways with his hands behind his neck. "I hope it's not a problem?" he asks.

"Of course not. However you feel comfortable." He doesn't move and he keeps his gaze on me. I continue before I could get embarrassed. "How are you recently, Steve?"

He smirks. "Can I leave if I say 'great'?"

I smile back. "Look, I know you think you are fine, and maybe you are. But I do need this job. So perhaps you could help me out here?"

He sighs. That's when I know I got him. "I imagine you are still having difficulties getting used to our world. How is it going?"

He shrugs. "Well, bad guys are still out there. I still work to catch them. I still have my shield. Sure, it's hard to take in all the technological advancements, but I'm on it. It keeps me busy, at least."

"Do you feel you need to be busy?"

"I like being busy," he responds carefully.

"Do you have any reason for that?"

He turns his gaze to the ceiling. "It helps me concentrate on what matters."

"What would that be?"

"The safety of the people. We are here to insure that." I realise my easy feeling about him lying down was way too early. He doesn't want to speak like none of them did before.

"Do you still find time to relax?" I ask. "What do you like doing when you are not saving the world?"

He shrugs. "I work out. Also, I read sometimes."

"What about spending time with others?" I prod. It seems he plays the same game as the other Avengers. Talking but not saying anything. He raises his eyebrow.

"What about it?" he asks back.

"As far as I've heard you are quite the loner," I explain.

"Does it surprise you?"

"No. On my second day I reached my limit. Nothing can surprise me anymore."

"What was the critical moment?"

I smile. At least he is willing to engage in conversation, just not about himself. "I saw Fury pet a kitten," I answer.

He starts laughing. "Are you kidding me?"

I shake my head. "At the top of the tower," I add. "I think the cat is still around, someone probably started feeding it."

He seems genuinely amused. "Now I understand why you seem to accept everything we tell you with the same neutral look."

I shrug. "This is my job after all. I don't mean to make any of you uncomfortable. I just need something to work with," I explain.

He nods. "Fair enough. To answer your question, I am quite the loner. I find it hard to connect with the people around me."

"Why is that?" I continue, relieved that he decided to cooperate.

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I was born at the time my colleagues' parents were." I pause before reacting. Did Captain America just sass me? Does Tony know he has it in him?

"I am sure you have things in common with them," I say.

"Well, let's see," he starts. "We have an actual god on the team. Not much common ground there. Then there is the spy duo. They have been working for SHIELD forever which makes it kind of complicated to make friends with them. They don't trust anyone. Dr Banner tried to repeat what happened to me which led to his current state that he admittedly hates. And Stark just hates my guts."

"This description certainly sounds like you've observed them closely."

He nods. "I definitely have. I'm a soldier, you see. Or I was, anyway. It's simple instinct to want to know who I work with."

"What about you? How do you feel about Mr Stark?"

"He is good at what he does. He's a successful businessman."

"I imagine he would argue with that."

"Obviously. He argues with everything I say. It doesn't make it any less true."

"Are you saying that the Iron Man concept is a business as well?"

He shrugs. "He surely has no problem selling it."

I decide to switch the topic as the conflict between these two is too complicated to resolve so easily. Not that they seem willing to work on their issues. I am not sure if this will be a problem on the long run. I need more time to discover the dynamics in the team.

"Basically everyone knows your name after what happened in New York. Is it hard to process the fame?"

"Not really if I don't leave this building," he shrugs. I smile. Captain America can be most definitely sassy if he wants to.

"You must be used to it to a certain degree. You were quite popular back then."

He remains silent for a while. "I don't really want to talk about those days, Miss Moon. Not today."

I nod. "Alright. What would you rather talk about? Your romantic life?" Risky question. His bitter huff shows this is not what he would rather talk about.

"Have you heard something?"

"I've read the reports. They mention Peggy Carter as your former love interest."

The sound he tries to muffle in his throat resembles to a deep growl. "Amazing," he snaps. " _Former love interest._ She obviouslyhas to be in the reports."

"Do you think it is not relevant to your file?"

"Yes. Yes I do. I think it is not your business what Peggy Carter meant to me back then." I don't respond, so he continues. "Nobody asked me if I wanted to be defrosted. If I wanted to continue my life in an age where everything is different from the world I grew up in and gave my life to save. And now you want me to talk about what I lost? The people I trusted and loved are either dead or about to die. It's hilarious that you get to read about them in those reports while I'm only left with memories from another life."

I take a deep breath. Now he sits stiffly on the sofa with his cold glance fixed on me. This time I don't have the chance to get distracted by his muscled arms as he doesn't release my gaze.

"Do you have a lot of feelings like that bottled up inside you?"

He shakes his head. "Miss Moon, I am fine, alright? I'm great. My romantic life is now on the back burner. It is my choice. I like it this way. I don't need more complications in my life."

"Would a romantic relationship mean complications?"

"Doesn't it always?"

I have to give him that. Biting my lip, I nod and smile at him. "Thank you for your time. The session is over now, I'll see you next week."

His relief can be easily noticed as he stands up. Seeing him leave with a rather grim expression I wonder if next time he would need to be brought in by the guards like Stark did.

Although I am still not sure how agent Hill would react to my little adventure in the archives, I can't help wondering what I could find in Steve Rogers' drawers if I were to go back and have a look.


	6. Fury I - Stella

**Stella tries to do her job but it is apparently not as easy as it seems.**

* * *

 **File ID: 15356 - 19 days after the battle of NY**

 **Name: Nicholas Joseph Fury**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: December 21, 1951**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Director of SHIELD**

 **Family status: —**

I wait twenty minutes in my office before admitting to myself that Fury won't come. I sigh and make my way to his office. I am able to reach it only because I ask an agent in the corridor how to get there.

"Sir?" I pass the two secretaries and make my way into the room where he sits behind a desk. He seems busy typing something so he barely looks up at me. The secretaries don't follow me in here which tells me something about their relationship to their boss. "Sir, you have an appointment for the therapy. It was supposed to start thirty minutes ago."

"I'll pass, Miss Moon. Thank you," he says.

I shook my head. "Not an option, sir. Everyone is supposed to show up. Including you."

"Miss Moon," Fury groans looking up at me. "I did not agree to this. Therefore I will not show up."

"None of my patients agreed to this," I retort. "And none like it," I add. "You must have heard that Mr Stark was accompanied by two agents to my office."

He scoffs. "I sent them."

I bite back my smirk. "I understand your feelings about the session, but-"

"Hey, don't go all shrink on me," he cuts in.

I resist the urge to throw my hands in the air and shriek in exasperation. "Sir," I start slowly. "I would like to do my job. That's all I intend to do. Could you please help me out?"

"No," he answers simply. "No. And if you sneak around the archives again, we'll have an issue, is that clear?"

I hope I don't blush at his words. Of course Hill ratted me out. Now I probably have a file in the archives too. I am pretty upset that I won't have the possibility to go back and read on the other Avengers. Their unwillingness to share personal details frustrates me to no end. Knowing I lost my only chance to discover more is just annoying.

"Crystal clear, sir." I respond. "But I will have an issue if you refuse to do the therapy as well. I signed a contract. And your name was on that contract."

"Fine. We'll find that contract and cross my name out."

"That's not how it works, sir," I protest weakly. "It is just one hour per week."

"One hour wasted, leaving only 167 to work with. Not a really good deal, is it?" he raises his eyebrow.

"If you put it that way, no," I nod. "On the other hand, psychotherapy proved to be useful in numerous researches over the past decades, so that would give you one hour to insure you'll be more productive during the other 167."

Fury glances up at me with surprise in his eye. "That's some impressive persuasion technique right there, Moon. Do you want a transfer to the negotiating team?" he asks me flatly. I have no idea if he is being sarcastic.

"No, sir, thank you."

"What a pity. Now I suppose you can find your way out?" I sigh. I learned when to give up the fight against these patients, and Fury clearly doesn't want to talk to me more.

"Next week I'll wait for you again," I say. He does not respond, just waves his hand as if I were an annoying fly. I leave the office followed by the threatening glares of the two secretaries.

* * *

 **From: Maria Hill**

 **To: Stella Moon**

 **Date: May 24, 2012**

 **Subject: Thor no show**

Dear Miss Moon,

Unfortunately I still don't have any news about when your session with Thor could start. His whereabouts are not known at the moment, we are fairly sure he is not on Earth though. Please consider today afternoon taken off. Hopefully I'll be able to tell you more next week.

Regards,

M. Hill

* * *

 **Biweekly report on the Avengers - ID 01836**

 **By Stella Moon - ID T453**

 **Note: Thor was not available for the examined period**

 **N. Fury was not cooperative at all**

 **General impressions:**

The first therapy sessions with five of the Avengers were similar: none of them wanted to engage in any meaningful conversation.

When asked to pick a topic, they opted for talking about the therapist's private/professional life.

They claim the battle of NY did not leave serious traces on them; they rather treat it as work.

 **Patient: Natasha Romanoff**

Miss Romanoff, although obviously not interested in the therapy, was willing to cooperate.

She seems content with her current position as part of the Avengers.

Her relationships to the other members are unclear.

Her skills include manipulation, hand-to-hand combat, using her physical traits to get the upper hand.

Further investigation will be needed to determine if the patient requires medication or special therapy.

 **Patient: Tony Stark**

Mr Stark was unwilling to participate at the session which resulted in him being taken in by SHIELD guards.

Despite the difficult start, I had no problems making him talk for the whole hour of the therapy.

He is easy to have a good work relationship with, but he has conflicts with S. Rogers.

I would find it useful to concentrate on that for the next sessions.

His intelligence is clearly extraordinary, he has a hard time turning his overthinking brain off.

 **Patient: Clint Barton**

Mr Barton shared a lot of info with me without much prodding on my part, but he kept the most important bits to himself.

He is still processing what he had to go through when Loki possessed his mind. It seems the others do not hold anything of that incident against him which helps him heal.

He has a hard time falling asleep, but firmly refuses any medication.

His aim is perfect, he excelled at most modules of SHIELD's basic training, but he seems to be able to keep up a personal life besides being an agent as well.

 **Patient: Steve Rogers**

Mr Rogers came to the session because he received an order to.

He was polite and interested in the conversation, but still tried to keep the focus away from his personal life.

It seems the conflict with T. Stark is active rather on the other side. He does not harbour hard feelings.

I finished the session earlier as he got upset when I asked about his past. He was relieved to leave.

He has a strong sense of justice and the skills of an experienced leader.

 **Conclusion:**

Working with the Avengers will be difficult, but I have the confidence to get positive results if given enough time.

N. Fury will be needed to be convinced to join me on the session, if possible.

Thor's whereabouts are unknown. Starting date of the therapy: unknown.


	7. Natasha II

**I just wanted to thank everyone for the interest in the story and for the lovely reviews as well. I will make sure to include your ideas in the story at some point :)**

* * *

 **File ID: 90453 - May 28, 2012**

 **Name: Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow**

 **Date of birth: November 22, 1984**

 **Place of birth: Soviet Union**

 **Citizenship: Soviet, Russian, American**

 **Occupation: Spy**

 **Family status: Single (I advised patient to let me know when it changes because she keeps snickering at the question)**

Natasha arrives with a bottle of nail polish and she starts painting her nails as soon as she sits down without as much as a glance in my direction. The colour is the most intimidating shade of scarlet I have ever seen. I wait patiently for five minutes before I speak.

"I suppose you still don't have anything you want to share with me."

She shrugs. "I wasn't even sure I would show up."

I can't help the smile that creeps on my lips. "I feel honoured then. Why did you?"

"I needed a place to paint my nails in peace," she responds coolly. I sigh. I thought I had already had the worst with Fury last week, but now Natasha decides to shut me out.

"Alright, I see you don't want to talk to me. I understand. You are here to do your job and you are not interested in any therapy. But-"

"But this is your job and you need my help," she says. "I've heard it all, Miss Moon. You keep saying the same thing to everyone over and over."

"And yet nobody listens to me," I reply.

She raises her eyebrow at me but turns back to her hand and starts painting the second layer. "Because this was a bad idea. Hopefully the Council realises it soon. Not that they realise anything in time."

"In time? So in the end you guys might end up feeling better than now?"

Natasha looks at me sharply. "We are fine," she whispers, but even her soft tone is somehow threatening.

I look back at her innocently. "Right. Why don't you tell me more about that then?"

"About what?"

"The normal things you do. That could show me how fine you are exactly." I probably push her too hard, but I've been here for a little over two weeks and I did not make any progress. With any of them. And then, Natasha was a tough woman. The Black Widow herself. Perhaps she would appreciate a direct approach.

"I paint my nails."

 _While on therapy,_ I want to point out, but I only nod. "What else?" She stays silent.

"Do you have hobbies? Something you can relax with?"

She frowns in concentration. "Hot baths."

I almost sigh in relief. She actually talks to me. I have to proceed carefully. "Great. What else? What do you do when you are not at work? Do you go out?"

"I like climbing. Both mountains and walls." That might even be something I can work with.

"Alone?" She probably recognises my attempt to dig deeper in her personal relationships, but this is finally a topic she is genuinely interested in, so she answers my question.

"Sometimes. We sometimes organise competitions with the guys. Or we used to, at least. In Team Delta. We usually beat them all."

"Team Delta?" I ask back, not quite believing my luck. She said too much. She knows it already. "You mean the STRIKE team you were part of?"

She nods. "It was the two of us, Clint and I."

"Did you climb together?"

"We still do," she answers. I raise my eyebrow.

"So do you spend time together outside work? Voluntarily?"

She titles her head to the side. "That is correct."

"Would you say you're friends then?"

She starts shaking her hands so the paint will dry more easily. "Miss Moon," she says. I already know this tone. I was impatient and potentially ruined the whole session. "I don't see the point in all this labelling. He already told you we are friends, didn't he?"

Honestly I am not surprised in the slightest that she heard about the session with Hawkeye. In this place there were no secrets. Natasha probably knew about everything I discussed with the other Avengers too. I wouldn't be surprised to discover she reads my emails as well.

"Perhaps. But this session is not about what agent Barton told me. It's about you and your feelings."

"I do not have feelings, Miss Moon."

"Don't you?" I ask. "I am not sure about that, Natasha."

Before I could continue, she cuts me off. "This is why I am telling you. Do you want me to cooperate? Here is my cooperation. Listen carefully because I don't want to repeat it." She takes a deep breath. I wait for her to speak with my notepad ready in my lap.

"As I said, I was thirteen years old when I first killed someone. I don't even know who it was. In the Red Room, where I started, they threw me at a target and I eliminated it. Do you think I would have been such a good asset for them or for the KGB or for SHIELD if I had feelings at all? I was made to destroy. That's what I do. This is who I am."

What she says does not scare me as much as how she says it. She's nonchalant, realistic, her tone is neutral. I believed I was prepared for this job, but I can almost hear my heart break as she carefully observes her painted nails.

"Natasha, this is not true. You get to choose who you want to be." I don't expect her to laugh at that, but she does. She laughs coldly and sarcastically.

"Did you get that from a motivational poster?" she asks when she calms down. "Look, I don't need you to save me from my life. I don't need anyone to protect me. This is the hand I'm dealt and damn sure I'm going to play it." She leans forward and looks into my eyes. "Moreover, I'm gonna win the game."

"I am certain of that," I reply with a faint smile. "But what I am trying to say is that feelings don't always equal weakness. Some even makes us stronger."

She shrugs. "Other people's feelings certainly makes me more effective."

"In what?"

"Convincing them. Killing them." This is it. She plays with me once again. Provoking me and shocking me. Perhaps even challenging me. A challenge I have to turn down.

"Thank you for your sincerity," I answer. "I think we are slowly making progress." This is an exaggeration, but I have to be satisfied with what I achieved today. She talked about herself. I am almost sure at least half of it was true.

She leaves the bottle of nail polish on the coffee table when she leaves. I call after her to get it. She turns around and smiles at me. "It's not that much. Use it up." I pick up the bottle and smile. Natasha Romanoff, the heartless assassin just gave me her nail polish.


	8. Tony II

**Thank you again for taking the time to read this story and for the lovely reviews. This chapter is a little longer than usual. It has a little information about the report on Bruce and a guest star. I hope you'll enjoy it :)**

* * *

 **From: Tony Stark**

 **To: Stella Moon**

 **Date: May 29, 2012**

 **Subject: Session tomorrow**

Stella,

I know I already postponed the session from yesterday to tomorrow. I am glad you agreed to it - you know therapy is all I care about, but I do have some other things to take care of. Business. And things.

Anyway, the problem is that tonight is date night and I can't cancel on Pepper at the last minute.

Thanks for your understanding.

T. Stark

PS: I have an intern guy who would be thrilled to take you out for dinner tonight.

* * *

 **From:** **Stella Moon**

 **To: Tony Stark**

 **Date: May 29, 2012**

 **Subject: Re: Session tomorrow**

Dear Tony,

I can't let you skip the session. Furthermore, I shouldn't have let you postpone it either - take it as my good will just this one time.

Miss Potts is welcome to accompany you to the session tomorrow evening.

I have to point out that two agents will make sure you come to the session if you are not present in my room in time. (It's SHIELD protocol.)

Best regards,

Stella Moon

PS: Not interested. Thank you for your concern though.

* * *

 **From: Corie Summers, WSC**

 **To: Stella Moon**

 **Date: May 30, 2012**

 **Subject: Biweekly report on the Avengers - ID 01836**

Dear Miss Moon,

I am contacting you on behalf of Mr Callahan Thorne from the World Security Council. He is in charge of monitoring the therapy sessions you lead with the members of the Avengers group.

In your last report (ID 01836) you missed the notes on Dr Banner. Please send his report over at your earliest convenience.

Thank you in advance.

Best regards,

Corrie Summers

Secretary

WSC SHIELD

 _Damn._ They noticed. Who reads those reports anyway? I was certain they would just put them in a nice yellow folder without even glancing at them. I sigh and start to search for my reports on the other Avengers. I have no idea what to write about Bruce Banner. I let him go early when it became obvious I was the scrutinised one and not him. I can't exactly write it down though, can I? Mr Thorne would probably get me fired. And even worse, he would be right.

* * *

 **File ID: 81302 - May 30th, 2012**

 **Name: Anthony Edward Stark/Iron Man**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: May 05, 1970**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Consultant, SHIELD**

 **Family status: In a relationship (note: patient brought Miss Potts along as per previous arrangement)**

Before I could reply to Summers, Tony arrives to my room holding Pepper Potts' hand. Pepper doesn't seem bothered by the fact that she will spend her date night on her boyfriend's therapy, but Tony's expression is still apologetic when he glances at her. I'm actually surprised he decided to bring Pepper along.

"Miss Potts, what a pleasure to meet you," I start with a smile, but Tony interrupts me. He clearly wants to maintain control. Control that he does not even have in this room, according to my plan, at least.

"Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, Stella Moon, our therapist." I shake Pepper's hand. "Now can we please get on with it?"

I nod. "Please, take a seat." They sit on the couch. Tony still holds his girlfriend's hand.

"I was convinced you are the CEO of the company, Tony," I start.

"It's a technical detail," Tony replies dismissively.

"I was a better fit for the role," Pepper answers at the same time. Hearing Tony she gives him a pointed look.

"And that too," he adds.

"Why is that?" I ask.

Tony shrugs. "You must know I am not really good at taking things seriously."

"You take Iron Man pretty seriously," I point out.

"Yes," he says simply. I wait patiently but he does not want to say more.

"Alright," I move on. "How is the role reversal working out for you two? If I understand correctly, Pepper was your personal assistant, right?"

They both nod. "There is no role reversal," Tony says.

"It's not so easy," Pepper responds at the same time. They seem to have a habit of this. They both reply at the same time, but while Tony dismisses the question, Pepper seems to be straightforward.

"Is that so?" I jump on the response turning to Pepper.

Tony hisses softly. Pepper shrugs. "It would have been complicated enough to get involved with my boss. But add Stark Industries and Iron Man to the mix and it's downright crazy." She rubs her forehead.

"I was convinced you liked crazy," Tony remarks. A glance at their knees confirms that he let her hand go. He obviously doesn't like that Pepper talks to me so easily and honestly.

"I like _you_ , Tony. I just put up with crazy because that's the price that comes with you," she replies.

Tony is clearly taken aback. While I am content some real discussion is about to be happen, I can't stop thinking about possible ways Tony will get his revenge on me later. "Are you saying it's too much for you to handle?" he asks rather defensively.

"I don't think that's what Pepper is saying," I interrupt earning a glare from him. "But she does have a point. Your lifestyle can be exhausting not only for you but for those in this environment as well."

"My lifestyle is called saving the world, Stella," Tony snaps. "I'm so glad we skipped that dinner in a high-end restaurant so we can talk about how difficult it is for everyone to be around me."

I sigh. Why did I even offer to him to bring Miss Potts along? There is no way we can talk about his real issues now as he is determined to prove to her that this is just a waste of time. And now, when his girlfriend actually tries to use the situation well and talk about her own experiences, he thinks it is all about him once again.

"Tony," I start. Now it's Pepper to take his hand in hers. The simple gesture has Tony relax against the couch. He probably does not even pay attention to my words. "Nobody says that it is not just as difficult for you as it is for others. I was just trying to point out that perhaps you don't take the time or energy to think about the influence these things can have on you or those around you."

He rolls his eyes in annoyance but I continue. "You gave the CEO position to Pepper and you say it was a technical detail while it is clear that for her it was a lot of work and responsibility to take on." I look at Pepper. "Am I correct?"

"Yes," she answers simply.

"But I knew you could take it," Tony protests. "She already knew a lot about the position beforehand," he explains to me.

"You're missing the point completely," Pepper says. "I can take it. But I have a lot of work in it. And I might even have difficulties."

"Fair enough," Tony nods. "So you want more people or another personal assistant, or-"

"I want you to recognise that it's not all your hard work. Stark Industries, even the Iron Man project or the innovations for the Avengers or SHIELD. I have my share in it too," Pepper cuts in. I am glad to see how eloquent she is. It makes sense; Tony needs someone who does not beat around the bush just like he doesn't. I'm quite certain at this point that my presence is unnecessary.

Tony raises his eyebrow. "Can we go and start the date night if I promise I will?" he asks. I can't help my smile. He looks quite pleased with himself catching my expression. I am not sure who he wants a response from.

"If you answer a couple more questions, I will let you early just this one time," I bargain.

"You get two," he replies.

"Tony," Pepper reprimands him.

"Three," he corrects.

"I can work with that," I nod. "Do you sleep well?" I start. The question sounds innocent, but ever since Hawkeye told me none of the Avengers sleep well, I couldn't get the thought of a group of exhausted, sleep deprived superheroes crammed together in this tower out of my head. This situations is like a barrel of dry gunpowder and a kid playing with a box of matches.

"What do you consider sleeping well?" he asks back. Pepper elbows him in the ribs. "Ouch," he frowns at her. "Not really," he shrugs. "Never have though. I am just better at thinking at night." Before I could react, he looks at me pointedly. "Two more."

"What are your plans with this relationship?"

"Stella, are you seriously bringing this up in front of my girlfriend?" Tony asks. "You are just my therapist. Nothing more." Pepper can't help her chuckle. Good. At least he makes her laugh.

I sigh and shake my head. "You promised me three answers."

Tony bites his lip for a moment while Pepper looks at him curiously. "Things are good, alright? They are great, really. Our plans are that they will remain great." It truly wasn't that nice of me to ask him about it in front of Pepper, so I will let go of the second question with basically no acquired information. Pepper seems just as disappointed as I feel. Perhaps they don't really discuss it in private either.

"Okay, I have a deal for you, Tony. I keep my third question. Next time I will bring a topic up and you will have to talk about it for at least five minutes. Honestly."

Tony doesn't care about my conditions. He just wants to get out. "Fine," he says and he is on his feet holding out his hand for me to shake already. I barely have time to say goodbye to Miss Potts as he drags her out of my room.


	9. Clint II

**File ID: 72314 - June 01, 2012**

 **Name: Clinton Francis Barton/Hawkeye**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: January 07, 1971**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Agent of SHIELD**

 **Family status: Single**

I arrive to my room with two cups of coffee. I am glad to see Hawkeye wait for me already. He takes the cup I offer and follows me to the room. "Did you have a hard night again?" I ask as we sit down.

He seems grateful for the coffee. He sips it calmly for a minute before replying with a shrug. "You could say that."

I open my mouth to answer, but he beats me to it. "Do not even try to bring up medication. It was just a bad night. I'll get over it."

"I didn't want to bring it up," I reply. It is a lie, but he lets me get away with it. "Is there something else you would rather talk about?"

He shrugs again noncommittally. "It's your call."

I try to use my chance well. "I want to talk about Team Delta."

He sighs and rubs his forehead. "Well, I suppose I asked for it. What do you want to know?"

"Everything you have to say," I reply.

He stares at me blankly for a little before he clears his throat. He obviously has nothing to say about it. "Team Delta was a STRIKE team of SHIELD. After I brought Natasha in, my handler offered the position to us."

"Your handler?"

"Yes. Phil. Agent Coulson. He could see that Nat didn't want to work with anyone else and nobody else was willing to work with Nat. So he put us together."

"Was it easy for you to trust her right away?"

He snorts. "She was a seventeen-year-old Soviet assassin. Of course I did not trust her."

"Why didn't you just say no to agent Coulson then?"

He looks at me as if he was contemplating who hired me. "I brought her in. I had to prove to Coulson and Fury that I can handle her. And that she can be handled."

"What happened that made you start trusting her?"

"We were on a mission in India. Something went horribly wrong, so we ended up with three men pointing their guns at us."

I nod. "So did she shoot them and save your life?"

He chuckles. "No. She shot me in the stomach. She earned their trust and finished the mission. I was collected by SHIELD agents and brought to the hospital." I stare at him, but there is no indication of him lying.

"She could have killed you," I point out. "Stomach shots are dangerous."

"Our job is dangerous," he retorts with a smirk.

"I mean," I explain, "as far as I know stomach shots can't be calculated so well. She could have easily killed you with a bad shot. What made you trust her about a move that was a strong guess and that could have ended your life?"

Clint smiles wider this time. "I was the closest thing to a friend she had. To a partner. And yet she made a decision to complete the mission not knowing certainly that I would survive it." When I keep looking at him in disbelief, he sighs and explains further. "I started to trust her loyalty to SHIELD. She put the mission first and that was enough for me."

"Do you trust agent Romanoff because she is loyal to her company?" I ask.

"As of now I trust agent Romanoff because she is my friend." I open my mouth but he is quicker. "No, I will not tell you what happened exactly. She is my friend and Team Delta is a project on a break right now."

"Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes."

"How does it feel to be part of the Avengers? Is it better?"

"It's different. It's a lot to take in. Natasha and I have our little habits and rituals. And now there are others around with more habits and rituals."

"Such as?"

"Well, Tony likes to stay up late, but Steve is used to going to bed early and waking up early. So now we can't have a meeting in the evening nor in the morning. So we usually have a meeting just after lunch, but that would be Natasha's nap time. And you don't want her cranky because she didn't get her nap time."

I almost chuckle imagining that Natasha has a nap time, but I control myself.

"Are there any advantages here to Team Delta?"

"Of course," he nods. "It's another position. It has its own advantages. Like working with the Avengers has its own advantages to working…?" He leaves the question open.

As he currently holds the title of the easiest patient, I have no choice but to answer him. I have to keep him as cooperative as I can.

"Working for an insurance company," I answer. "It was one of the bigger ones, so they could afford to have a psychologist on site for the employees. It was all stories about neglected wives and abusive parents. I started to get bored of them."

"I suppose it's a little less boring here," Clint smirks.

I chuckle and nod. "You can say that." I wait a little before going on. "How many missions did you have in Team Delta?"

He thinks for a moment. "Around 80. Maybe 85."

"That's a lot." He nods, unsure about where I am going with this. "Travelling and working so much certainly requires a lot of sacrifices."

"It does," he agrees carefully.

"I wonder if you are able to distinguish Clint Barton from Hawkeye at this point," I continue.

He frowns. "Miss Moon, I am both Clint Barton and Hawkeye. There is nothing to distinguish."

I raise my eyebrow. "Are you certain, Clint? Hawkeye killed hundreds of people and other beings."

"What are you trying to say? That you have a hard time believing it was I who did it?" he asks. He leans forward. "That only shows you don't know me very well, doesn't it?"

Yes, it does. It annoys me that I spent a session building up something with Clint which proves to be a dead end. I smile at him. "It's not like you give me a chance to get to know you."

"Or it's that you fail to use it properly," he suggests. Damn, he is probably right. He did let me choose the topic for today and then answered my questions as well. More or less. I make a note to try to explore his childhood next time before I thank him for the session.

 **From:** **Stella Moon**

 **To: Corie Summers, WSC**

 **Date: June 01, 2012**

 **Subject: Biweekly report on the Avengers - ID 01836**

Dear Ms Summers,

Please find my report on Dr. Banner attached.

I apologise for not sending It over with the rest of the reports - I don't know how it could have happened, but I'll make sure to be more careful next time.

Best regards,

Stella Moon

 **Biweekly report on the Avengers - ID 01836**

 **By Stella Moon - ID T453**

 **Patient: Bruce Banner**

Dr Banner was concerned about my personal safety during the session - I tried to explain he had nothing to worry about. It is unclear if he agrees.

The success he achieved as part of the Avengers does not seem to help him accept who he is.

I am still trying to determine if there is a suspicion of depression in his case. He would probably be more open to medication than his colleagues.

He was throughly polite and kind during the session but his impatience was obvious.


	10. Bruce II

**File ID: 64224 - June 04, 2012**

 **Name: Robert Bruce Banner/Hulk**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: December 18, 1969**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Physicist**

 **Family status: — (note: patient warned me that the question is "useless and ridiculous" in his case)**

"Currently you're employed by Stark Industries, is that correct?" I ask reading my notes.

Bruce slowly nods. He looks like he doesn't understand why I sent him a message yesterday reminding him of today's session. After I finished it in a hurry last time, he probably thought he could get away with not showing up. But I have a new plan.

"It's not that simple. I work here in the tower, but my researches are also used by SHIELD."

"Researches on what?" He raises his eyebrow.

"Do you want to talk about my job?" I nod. He sighs. "Some weapons and… corps of the Chitauri remained here. Fury and Stark think we should examine them and see what we can find. To be prepared."

"Prepared?"

"For future assaults." He looks nonchalant.

"Are you not worried about possible attacks against Earth in the future?"

"I would not say that. But it was only one group. Now we spend time and money to research their weapons and bodies but to what end? Future attacks will come from someone else. They will have other weapons, ones we can only imagine right now. What are we going to do? Check _their_ weapons after another battle that will demolish another metropolis?"

He has a point. "I think Mr Fury and Mr Stark are simply trying to learn from what happened. To draw the conclusions. To see what we are dealing with."

"They are still under the illusion that it will help us. Save us. But this planet is just one of the many and many of the others are hostile towards us."

I can see where this is going. I try to take a new direction. "Bruce, I understand you might be worried about-"

"I am not just worried," he intervenes. "I am scared. Just like Tony is. The difference is that I accept that we can't control everything. Tony does not."

"Did you find something interesting?" I ask. "Something useful?"

He shrugs. "It seems they didn't have blood but some unidentified liquid coursing through them. But I'm not a biologist, so now I'm trying to get Fury to send me one so we can continue the tests."

"How much do you work these days?"

"Well, around ten hours a day. Sometimes twelve."

"Do you have a reason to overwork so much?"

He looks at me innocently. "You haven't met many scientists, have you?" I raise my eyebrow as I wait for him to get to the point. "For scientist it's really hard to stop working."

"Does that mean you are not tired?"

"Not of work," he replies.

"What are you tired of then?" I prod.

He smiles at me. "Questions of this kind."

I close my eyes and count to ten while I contemplate just how much I need this job. Bruce is quite open about not wanting to talk to me. Natasha paints her nails in my office. Fury doesn't even plan to show up. Honestly it is both infuriating and exhausting.

"Let me guess: my job here is superfluous."

He nods. "That's pretty much what I told you last time as well."

"Oh yes," I continue. "It's like I got an assignment to do a job that might not have any visible result or positive outcome, but I still have to do it because some people up there think that it might help prepare the Avengers of whatever comes next time."

He stares at me and I stare back. For a long minute neither of us speak. "Are you comparing your therapy to my research?" he finally asks.

"That is exactly what I am doing," I confirm. "Sometimes we do not have all the answers. Sometimes we don't have any answers. But we still have to keep going. Looking for those answers, weighing possible future scenarios, be present, be prepared. I am here to assure that the members of the Avengers are in the right mindset. That next time one of you kills someone innocent, you won't fall apart. That you won't just quit the group because you see justice and superhero duties differently."

Bruce still looks at me in awe. I feel bad for him, really. He only has to listen to my tirade because my patience ran out right in this moment.

"That… that certainly would be beneficial."

I sigh in relief. "Can we talk then? It's really just one hour per week."

He nods. "Fine." He adds a little shrug but I am sure he means it. "I might as well cooperate."

I can't help the grin that spreads on my lips. "Did you get enough rest since the battle of New York?" I ask. "It was a huge exertion and you all seem to have continued working right after it."

He nods. "I had a week off or so."

"But didn't you spend it moving into your lab and ordering everything you need for the research and all of that?"

"Yes. So?" he asks.

"That is basically work."

He smirks. "Ah, so you mean if I lay on the beach for days with a book and sunglasses and pretty cocktails with little umbrellas in them?" I nod.

"No," he says. "But to be fair, I never do that."

"What do you do to relax then? Do you have any hobby?"

"I like reading," he answers. "Novels. A lot of sci-fis and sometimes thrillers. But it's been a while since I had the time for that."

"What else?" I continue. I underline the word _sci-fi_ two times in my notes. This might be my favourite information of Banner.

"Perhaps this would be just the right time, don't you think? You could work less and read a little more."

"It's hard when I work with Tony Stark."

"Why would it be hard?"

"The man practically doesn't sleep, Miss Moon. I go into the lab in the morning and he is there. I walk out at 1am and he says goodnight to me on the corridor. Working less in this environment would feel…"

"Lazy?" I try to finish his sentence when he does not.

He nods. "Lazy. Plus, it's hard to work without a deadline. We do not know when and if we have to use the knowledge we acquire during these months. So we have to be quick."

"Do you enjoy the job?" I ask. "I mean if you strictly concentrate on the work itself, not its purposes or the colleagues. Stark Industries and SHIELD are able to provide the most ideal working conditions I imagine."

"If I only considered the work itself, it would be amazing. I can ask for anything and they will give it to me. I have the most high-tech lab I have ever seen. And the assistants are truly professional. It could be the dream. And then, researching the Chitauri? What physicist wouldn't want to create a piece of history?"

"What about the time you don't spend in the lab? Do you get enough sleep?"

"Less than usual. But when I get to sleep, it's deep and dreamless. I like it this way."

"Have you ever had bad dreams?"

He chuckles dryly. "I have some traumatising memories. They surface sometimes. Other times I turn into a huge green monster."

I detect the sour edge in his tone but I still have to smile at his sass. "That will be a topic for a future session, Bruce." His smile is much lighter now.

"Thank you for your cooperation. And I would like to apologise for that outburst. I didn't mean to-"

"I know," Bruce smiles. "It's alright, Miss Moon. I understand anger."

"I bet you do." I wonder if we will be able to talk about the Hulk some time. Now it doesn't seem impossible at all.


	11. Steve II

**Thank you again for all the interest in the story :) In this chapter Stella almost gets results, but a guest star intervenes.**

* * *

 **File ID: 58117 - June 05, 2012**

 **Name: Steven Grant Rogers/Captain America**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: July 04, 1918**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Soldier**

 **Family status: Single**

"Is the shield a metaphor?" I ask looking at the famous shield that is leant against the couch. It looks kind of battered up close, but the star still shines on it.

Steve smirks at me. "As in?"

"As in you need protection from my questions."

He laughs softly. "You're working your way through my first line of defence, is it?"

I smile as well. "You don't need to worry, Steve. You talk to me for an hour and you get back to your training. Or whatever it is you have to get back to."

"A new assignment," he responds. "I might have to go to Russia."

"To Russia?" I ask. "So soon?"

He shrugs. "Well, yes. Do we need to get a permission from you to be able to continue working?"

I raise my eyebrow. "As of now you do not. But that's actually a pretty good idea." He rolls his eyes. "Alright, so you feel confident about a new assignment already. You don't need more time to process what happened and—"

" _What_ happened, Miss Moon?" he cuts in. "Do tell me what happened exactly that is supposed to have us all in lethargy even a month after the battle? I mean I was there, but maybe I didn't notice something."

"Tell me about this task instead. Would you go alone?" I ask changing the subject. Steve does not want to be here, which I already got used to. Nobody does. But he seems rather hostile.

"I don't know. I guess Romanoff is coming too."

"It looks like you have a great relationship with agent Romanoff."

"Do you mean you observed us?" His tone is downright accusatory now.

"A little bit," I shrug uneasily. "And I've read—"

"The reports. Of course you did," he huffs.

I take a deep breath and try to calculate if I will have enough time to duck if Steve decides to throw the shield at me. "Steve, what is it?" I ask. "Did you decide to be the one who makes me quit? Did you make a bet with the others?"

Steve sighs. "I apologise, Miss Moon," he finally answers. "I don't mean to be rude."

I am tempted to inform him that he is well on his way nonetheless, but I keep my mouth shut. Steve really doesn't seem to be in his top form. "Are you in a general bad mood?"

"I am having one of those old days."

I frown. "Old days?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "Some mornings I wake up and simply start my day. But some other mornings when I wake up, I believe I'm back in my first life."

"In the old days."

"Exactly. So it takes half an hour more to even leave the bed. And even if I do get on with my day, I keep thinking of what I lost. The people, the whole world, even the terrible food we got in the camps."

"Even the war?"

He shrugs. "I'm a soldier. War is my job."

I nod. "Fair enough. So how do you deal with the old days?"

He laughs mirthlessly. "As you can see, not quite efficiently."

"You mean you sulk," I reply. He winces slightly but I go on. "It is a perfectly normal reaction to grief and loss."

"Yeah, but you see, I have no time for this. I am an Avenger. I have to stay focused."

"How many old days do you have on average?"

"Around five in a good month."

"And in a bad month?"

"Twenty," he replies. His previous sass is gone now. He looks vulnerable and sad.

"Have you ever tried to find out who's still alive of your old friends?" I ask.

He nods. "A couple are. Most of them in a hospital, patiently waiting for death."

"Do you visit them sometimes?"

He sighs. "I did. But it's hard."

"Why?"

"They sometimes forget who I am. Some of them can't walk or talk and—" He takes a deep breath before going on. "It's hard. And seeing them also reminds me of those who couldn't make it. Who were still young and strong when they fell. And it reminds me that I couldn't… save them."

"You did your best, Steve. There was a war going on and your friends knew the risks."

"Did they?" he asks. "Did they really? We were just young idiots who did what we did for a better world."

"Well, you can judge the results now. Is it a better world?"

"In some aspects, I suppose."

"So would you say they didn't die in vain?"

He bits his lip and doesn't answer for a long while. When he finally does, his tone is heavy. "They all died in vain."

I sit there and weigh my options. What could I say to that? There is this man who lives off war, and who lost so much to it. And this man knows that all of it was in vain. That there is no such thing as dying honourably in war. I am in awe by the amount of wisdom Steve Rogers seems to possess.

Before I could react, I hear knocking on my door. I ignore it. "Do you think it's a good idea to go to Russia if there is a chance you—" The knocking this time sounds more impatient this time. "I mean—"

"I think you should open it," Steve suggests.

I groan in frustration and stand up. When I open the door I see Tony Stark. His arms are crossed and he almost taps with his foot. Tony does not like to be kept waiting. "Tony, I'm working," I say. It's strange to see him right here. "I thought you avoid this room like the plague," I add.

"Stella," Tony nods in greeting and marches into the room without waiting for permission. He glances at Steve and chuckles when he sees the shield. "Really? Next time I'm bringing the suit," he comments.

Steve sighs and shakes his head. "What is it, Stark, I thought you were busy playing in your dungeon."

"Oh I will get back to my toys in a moment," Tony responds.

"Tony, can we talk later?" I ask.

Tony turns to me and smirks. "No. I don't have time for later." He digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. "Shane Debney." A picture of a young, handsome man appears in the air. He has black, messy hair and gorgeous green eyes. "He's one of the interns in the Stark Tower, likes hiking and reading sci-fis and swims almost every day."

I stare at Tony in disbelief. "Are you serious right now?"

He shrugs innocently. "He is the perfect match for you, Stella."

I can't believe what is happening. We were about to enter to deeper level of understanding and trust with Steve, something that is crucial in the therapy. Now Tony ruins everything.

"Leave. Now," I say simply.

"But he—"

"Tony, please. I'm working right now and Steve has a tight schedule too. Take your intern and leave me alone with your matches. Please."

Tony seems almost hurt. In the very least offended. "Great. So I spend hours—"

"God, get out already, Stark," Steve murmurs. "Can't we all just have one hour when you are not the star of the universe?"

"I'm sorry, says the guy who brings his shield to the therapist?" Tony asks back. "I imagine you wear Captain America pyjamas too, hmm? With your face on your chest and all?"

When Steve stands too, I start to worry. Tony has one hand in his pocket. I wouldn't be surprised if he had the suit on in the moment he pressed something there, to be honest. "Gentlemen, I am not sure this is the right platform for this kind of discussion. Tony, we'll talk later. Steve, please, sit back."

I'm relieved when Tony groans and nods turning to the door. "No wonder you don't have a boyfriend, Stella," he says before leaving the office.

"What a jerk," Steve remarks, but stays on his feet.

"I apologise." I point at the couch. "Please, sit down. I think we're making progress."

He shakes his head. "I really have to go now, Miss Moon. I'm sorry."

And there goes everything I might have obtained today. Amazing. I still smile and let him leave. What else could I do? I make a mental note to get permission from Fury to look into the archives and get more information on Peggy Carter and sergeant Barnes.


	12. Natasha III

**Apologies for the late update and thanks for reading! In this one Stella has another go with Natasha but is interrupted as usual.**

* * *

 **From: Tony Stark**

 **To: Stella Moon**

 **Date: June 06, 2012**

 **Subject: Re: Sorry**

No, I do understand what you're saying. You don't need anyone. Perfectly clear. You could have told me the first time I asked, but alright.

I do apologise. We don't need to tell Coulson or Hill about it, right?

Tony

I shake my head reading the email. He doesn't understand it at all. But I suppose an apology in an email that was probably written by her secretary is all I can expect from him.

* * *

 **From: Minta Tanner**

 **To: Stella Moon**

 **Date: June 08, 2012**

 **Subject: Re: Session of June 08**

Dear Miss Moon,

Mr Fury received your email regarding today's session. I would like to apologise in advance quoting his reply:

"Not in a million years."

I would also like to assure you that we are currently trying to make arrangements as to cancel the sessions with Mr Fury from your contract.

Thank you for your understanding.

Regards,

Minta Tanner

Secretary

Office of the Director

* * *

 **File ID: 90460 - June 11, 2012**

 **Name: Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow**

 **Date of birth: November 22, 1984**

 **Place of birth: Soviet Union**

 **Citizenship: Soviet, Russian, American**

 **Occupation: Spy**

 **Family status: Single**

"I want to talk about the Red Room," I say. Natasha looks at me puzzled by my reckless attempt at actually doing my job and shakes her head.

"No."

"About Team Delta?"

"Not a chance."

"About your time as Tony's assistant."

"No."

"About Cli—"

"Forget it."

I take three deep breaths before starting the discussion again. But she doesn't let me talk.

"I heard you refused to meet Debney. If you want to know what I think, it was a smart choice. He's not the one for you." I look up and blink a couple of times.

"Tony says he is," I finally answer.

"Well, Tony doesn't know shit about men, does he?"

"Do you?" She pauses. She wanted to shift the conversation on me, to play the old game of girls sticking together in a world ruled by men. But I am not having it. Not with her who puts me into a position of enemy when she doesn't feel like talking to me and treats me like a best friend when she does. It is not that I am hurt or offended by it. I know this is how she works. But I am not a target of hers. She is, on the other hand, a patient of mine.

"Do you, Natasha?" I repeat. "I wonder if you ever see people as who they are… people."

"I- I don't understand," she says.

I raise my eyebrow. "You do. The others say you are a good friend. But you deny you have friends among them. Why is that?"

Natasha frowns but does not reply. I push further. I need to or we won't get anywhere no matter how many sessions we'll have together. "I think you don't know where Black Widow ends and where Natasha begins."

The look at her face is of utter betrayal. She obviously didn't come here to get confronted by the fact that her humanity has been suppressed for so long that she has a hard time finding it. Or even a hard time searching for it.

After a long silence I continue. "You were thirteen when you first killed, is that correct?" She doesn't react but I go on. "I have read a couple of things about the Red Room. According to the files you were around eight when you got into th-"

"I was six," Natasha intervenes. I am surprised by the remark and as far as I can see, she is too. It is clear my observation about Black Widow shook her nonchalant demeanour, if not cracked it even.

"That's way too young," I say.

She shrugs. "Well, what is the appropriate age to throw a girl in the Red Room and strip her of everything that makes her who she is? To beat her and break her and-"

I pour a glass of water from the jug I keep on the coffee table. She reaches for it and downs it. "You are absolutely right," I nod. "I am sorry."

"I don't need your apology," she snaps. "I don't need your pity. And I don't need your opinion. I am who I am, yes. A cold hearted assassin. But you don't get to sit here and tell me I'm broken and lost and unworthy of love and friendship and then go back to your perfect little world with the salary you get from the very same company that wants me to be that assassin. That pays me to be the Black Widow."

"I never said any of those things," I point out after a stunned silence. I want to slam my fist on the table and tell her that I do not have a perfect life, that I have problems too. That I am here alone, far from my family with whom I don't have a great relationship in the first place. But I cannot.

Natasha glares at me. "Right."

I sigh. "Natasha. I am here to help you. I don't want to sit here for an hour just to have myself tangle in the Black Widow's web. The spider is your job."

"And you are SHIELD's therapist."

"I like to push my limits."

"And others'," she adds.

I smirk but before I could say anything, the door opens without a knock and agent Coulson steps in. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Miss Moon. Romanoff, I need you to come with me. Now."

Natasha transforms before my eyes. Every trace of vulnerability and emotions fade from her expression as she jumps up. "What happened?" Black Widow is back to work.

"Rogers got compromised. You have to fly to Moscow immediately."

"Barton?" Natasha asks.

"Stark is going with you," Phil says making Natasha frown.

"But…" I can't hear her objection because they leave my room without as much as saying me goodbye.

* * *

 **From: Maria Hill**

 **To: Stella Moon**

 **Date: June 11, 2012**

 **Subject: Sessions with Romanoff, Stark and Rogers cancelled**

Dear Miss Moon,

I apologise for the confusion about agent Romanoff's leaving the session early today. Agent Rogers is on a mission in Moscow right now and following a problematic action on his part he got injured and captured. Romanoff and Stark are tasked with collecting him.

Due to these unfortunate circumstances, I have to inform you that your therapy sessions with the above mentioned agents are on hold until further notice.

Thank you for your understanding.

Regards,

M. Hill


	13. Clint III

**Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait and thank you so much for being interested in the story :) In this one Clint has a bit of a story time.**

* * *

 **File ID: 72314 - June 13, 2012**

 **Name: Clinton Francis Barton/Hawkeye**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: January 07, 1971**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Agent of SHIELD**

 **Family status: Single**

It has only been two days that Natasha and Tony left to rescue Steve, but the atmosphere is already different from the one I know. The huge building that has always been loud and noisy now seems strangely empty and silent.

And Hawkeye, my most reliable patient, did not show up for his appointment.

I wait for an hour before I grab my notepad and make my way to the shooting range. I do not have any other idea about his possible whereabouts. It is mostly empty except for some agents practicing shooting with guns. As I keep walking, I can hear the familiar thumps among the gunshots as well. It doesn't take much time to notice Clint as he shoots his arrows onto a target that is already full of them without pausing to take a breath. He wears his uniform as if he was about to leave for a mission in the near future. I know this is not the case, I asked Hill who said Clint would not be sent out for at least two more weeks.

I stand by for a while before I clear my throat. "Clint?"

Clint turns towards me with his arrow aimed at my chest and I can't help the squeal that leaves my throat. He looks at me for a long moment without moving before lowering the bow. "God, Stella, what are you doing here?" he asks forgetting the formality he usually addresses me with.

"You didn't show up at the session," I explain after taking a deep breath to appreciate the fact that I just avoided death.

He shrugs and keeps his gaze on me as his upper body turns towards the target and he shoots the arrow. It hits the bull's-eye.

I stare at the arrow among the many others before I look back at him. "It appears you are upset. In this case it would be paramount that—"

"I am having a bad day. I am coping with it. I do not need nor want to participate at that therapy right now."

"What could I offer to you to change your mind then?" I ask.

"When I see Natasha get back here safely from that mission, I'll go and see you," he replies but he is already back at shooting his arrows.

I raise my eyebrow but can't help my smile. "Is this about agent Romanoff then? You're worried about your partner."

The thumps continue steadily. Hawkeye stays silent.

"Are you worried because you were not sent out together with her? As I recall most of your missions were together with her since you—"

"Brought her in. Yes. We worked a lot together and there is absolutely no reason she should be sent out without me."

"She is not alone. Tony—"

"Yes, Tony is with her and she is a trained assassin anyway." He groans and turns to look at me again. "Miss Moon, I do not need you to comfort me. I just need my practice session."

I nod. "Fine." I simply sit on the ground and cross my legs placing the notebook on my thigh.

"What are you doing?" Clint asks.

"Working. Someone has to," I respond jotting down some notes. He seems uncomfortable with it because he stops shooting.

"Are you serious?"

I hum. "Definitely. I will just sit here and observe."

"I do not like the sound of that."

"Would you prefer talking to me?" I ask. "Come on, Clint. Give me something. Talk to me about that mission. The one you failed to complete."

"Can I continue shooting?" he asks with a sigh.

"Whatever you like." He keeps on shooting until all of his arrows are in the different targets. Then he steps there and pulls them out one by one. He returns next to me and to his practice session.

And in the meantime he talks. He talks so much and so fast that I fail to keep up with my notes and have to let it all go - I don't want to stop him or slow him down in case he wouldn't be so eager to continue the story.

I was with SHIELD for five years at the time. Before that I lived with— well, you've probably read the reports on that, but I might have stolen some things that were not supposed to be stolen. When Fury offered me a position it wasn't much of a choice, it was an alternative to prison. Still, I was proud to be the one assigned to the mission. To take out the Black Widow. That was surely going in my file. Killing off Natasha Romanoff was an honour. Most of the agents did not qualify for the task simply because Natasha was deadly up close. Fury needed my arrows. The Widow was on a mission in Warsaw and according to the reports she had already killed two important Polish politicians. It was actually not hard to track her down. I was convinced she did it on purpose. Those girls in the Red Room were trained to kill without mercy and she did, but she was getting tired. I still think she was aware we were after her. I still think she wanted to end it all. To die there, in Warsaw. We had to let her kill another politician to be able to get near her. But finally we did. I was at the top of the building in front when she stepped out on the street. I still remember it clearly. She stopped for a moment and stared in front of her. Then she continued walking. I had the perfect aim. Stella, I don't know how much you know about archery. But it's not like shooting a bullet. That's over in a moment. But the victim can hear the arrow. They can hear it most of the times. I had one pointed at her head and I knew this would be the last thing she heard. Death flying towards her. She moved faster and faster, I followed her. Jumping on rooftops and keeping that damned aim on her head. Finally she was running. Then when we got to the outskirts of the city, she stopped and turned around. I— it was a terrible moment, really. She was still looking right in front of her into the void. Then she slowly nodded. I asked her several times why she did it and she says she did not. But Stella, I am telling you, I saw it. She knew it was the end of it and she consented to it. She wanted to die. Obviously if you ask her she'll tell you I just imagined it, but I didn't. Anyway, that was the hard part. I had the perfect aim but suddenly I didn't find it that easy to finish the job. There was this kid doing her job like I was doing my job, working for some people she never truly chose to work for. Just like I did. Now don't get me wrong, I don't want to compare Fury to those Soviet assholes, but I do want to compare Natasha to myself because that's why I made that choice in that moment. Because I saw her in me. So I decided to take her in. If Fury still wanted to kill her, fine. If she still wanted to die, fine. I figured she knew how to kill herself in at least six different ways so my arrow was definitely not crucial for her suicide plan. I shot through her thigh. The scar is still there. She likes reminding me of that all the time, by the way. I took her to my room and later back to the US. Fury was not impressed, to say the least. But I made the right decision. I know I did. And by now Fury knows it too.

I wait some moments but he obviously finished the story. I finally nod. "Thank you for sharing this story. I didn't have any success trying to coax it out of Natasha."

Clint shrugs and shoots another arrow at the target. "She finds you too pushy," he says.

I raise my eyebrow. "That I am, no doubt about that," I admit. It would make no sense denying it. "Speaking about me being pushy… when was the first time you two got intimate?"

He huffs and laughs as he turns back to me. "Seriously? I just shared the story of our first meeting, of the only mission I failed to complete. And it is not enough for you?"

I shrug. "What can I say? I am pushy and greedy."

He smirks. "She was seventeen when we met, the most gorgeous redhead I have ever seen. We were together in Team Delta all the time. You get the idea."

"Would you say you love her?" I ask. I am aware this is a bold move - the Avengers clearly don't like to talk about love. But Clint has been pretty communicative so far.

"I honestly don't understand you, Stella. Do you even know what love is?"

I shrug. "I am not sure about that."

"Then why are you always trying to tag what we have? How should we able to talk about love to you if you do not even know how to define it?"

I sigh. He does have a point once again. One I am not entirely comfortable hearing, once again. I decide it is time to end the session. I thank him and leave with the sound of the steady thumps still in my ears.


	14. Stella - Bruce III

**File P4534 - Permission request**

 **Date:** June 14, 2012

 **Name:** Stella Moon

 **Subject:** Permission request to see classified files on S.R.

 **Explanation:** These files would be useful in order for me to understand some hidden frustrations and motivations of S.R. I think the therapy is on the right way but he is not willing to open up further. I would like to stimulate a conversation with the information.

 **Authority:** Nicholas Joseph Fury

 **Permission granted:** yes

 **Explanation:** At least you asked for permission.

* * *

 **File SR9862 - Diary excerpt**

 **Writer/Owner of diary:** Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader (Dum Dum) Dugan

 **Entry date:** August 21, 1943

 **Subject:** This entry covers an argument between Steve Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes about S.R. jumping on a fake grenade during his pre-serum training.

I absolutely have to write what happened tonight. We have an ongoing bet with Gabe and I am about to win a lot of drinks. So I'd better have some evidence of what happened in case the bastard wanna play me later.

We are in the middle of the woods. We set up this camp three days ago and we still have two days before we have to leave to the next Hydra base. Things were quite relaxed. Turned out Cap doesn't know a lot of card games and tricks, so we spent some time to train him.

It happened in the middle of a vicious poker game. Now it is important to note that Rogers is one son of a gun when it comes to bluffing, but he is still not as good as Barnes.

After the sixth or seventh round we were getting tired and that's when hell broke loose. Cap took too long with his cards, so Jim remarked, jokingly, "Come on, Rogers, for one who jumps on grenades without a moment of hesitation-"

"What?" Bucky asked and I swear his hands were shaking.

Steve glared at us which effectively made us all shut up and finally placed two cards on the crate on which we played. "Give me two." (Note: he should have asked for three. I know because after they left we checked their hands left behind.)

"No wait," Bucky said to Gabe who was the dealer for the round. "What grenade?" He asked.

The silence was almost frightening. Steve refused to look up from his cards.

"Steve," Barnes called irritatedly.

"Oi, just let it go, pal. It was fake anyway," Jim stepped in, wanting to right the mistake he caused, obviously.

"Oh so you all know about it, huh?" Bucky asked back. Rogers at this point was intently observing a bug on the crate.

"Perhaps," Gabe responded carefully.

"Bullshit. I want to hear the story," Barnes said. God, I swear when he talks like this he's scarier than Captain freaking America.

"I really don't see how it is important right now," Steve finally spoke as he got up.

But Barnes followed suit. "Steve."

Cap rolled his eyes. "Fine. Fine. In training before the serum the Colonel threw a grenade among us and I-" he swallowed. "I jumped on it, okay? It only seemed logical."

I couldn't help but snicker. Neither of them appreciated it. (Good news: I am still alive and kicking.) But really, who says jumping on a grenade is _logical_?

Bucky must have agreed with me because the sound he gave at that was basically a primal growl. He cleared his throat. "Are you kidding me?" He started softly.

"Buck." Rogers looked uncomfortable as hell and looked at us, but what could we have said? It really was the stupidest thing I've heard. "Buck, it was a fake. Nothing happened. I mean, I was chosen for the programme, so if you look at it that way…"

"Are you kidding me?" Barnes repeated. "Are you kidding me, Stevie? I was there for you, kicked all the asses you wanted to kick, helped you when your mother died. I look away for one second and this happens?"

Well, it happened about two hours ago and now that I look back at it, I would say it was not the right thing to say for Barnes.

Rogers didn't answer but retreated to his tent instead. Barnes looked over us as if we had been the ones throwing that bloody grenade at his best friend. Then he went after him.

I was just as pissed as Jim and Gabe for a perfectly good poker game having gone so wrong. But we clearly weren't as pissed as Cap and Bucky were.

 **Note:** The entry does not end here, but the remaining part is not connected to the conflict between S.R. and J.B.B.

* * *

 **File ID: 64278 - June 15, 2012**

 **Name: Robert Bruce Banner/Hulk**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: December 18, 1969**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Physicist**

 **Note: Patient is currently in a glass cell refusing to come out. He is in human form but previously transformed into the Hulk for a brief time.**

"Stella Moon. I'm going in," I say to the guards who stand by the door leading to the special cell that Tony installed for the Hulk if something was to go wrong. I flash my card too, but the two men seem unwilling to let me in. "Ma'am—"

"I have a therapy session with Dr. Banner. I am going in," I repeat. "You can call agent Coulson if you will," I add. They do. I am not surprised. Some safety measures are certainly overreacted around here. But then again, I did sneak into the archives once, so who am I to complain.

Finally I can enter the corridor after Coulson confirmed my story. In the end of it I already see the cell with Bruce inside of it. He wears oversized but comfortable looking clothes and is reading a thick book with a couple of others waiting on the floor of the cell.

"Hello Bruce," I greet him as I walk to the glass and sit on the floor with my notes in my lap. "I hear you don't want to come out."

"Miss Moon," Banner nods and lowers the book to look at me suspiciously. "That's correct."

I nod. "I understand. Still, as you are back to your… tamed self, I think these safety measures you think you have to take are exaggerated."

He huffs. " _Tamed self_ , is it, Miss Moon? Look, you were the one insisting that I need to rest, were you not?" He looks around theatrically and then fixes his gaze on me. "I am now."

"Ah, so did you take some days off?"

"Well, technically Hulk did."

"What happened?"

He shrugs. "I don't know."

"As far as I know it never happens without a reason or without your intention to turn," I respond. "Do you not remember what triggered it?"

He raises his eyebrow. Yes, I should have let him get away with the crap, but when Banner turns into the giant green monster the least I can do is try to figure out why and what changes need to be done in order for it not to happen again like this.

"Bruce. Please, throw me a bone." He shrugs noncommittally scratching his stubbled chin. "According to Fury you were back in your lab working and now everything is in ruins there. The whole equipment."

It is a painful spot for him, clearly. "But the good news is that all your research is constantly backed up in several copies. So you still have those," I add quickly.

He sighs. "That's something." He narrows his eyes at me. "Stella, did Fury send you to fire me?" he asks.

I shake my head. "You are not fired, Bruce. Furthermore, you'll get your equipment back. Whatever you need to continue the work." I pause for a moment. "But for that you need to come out of here, for one, and two, I have to write a report stating you are stable and ready to pick up work."

"Then write it," Bruce responses.

"First prove it," I answer. "Tell me what happened, Bruce."

"I just- I was in the lab working. I was observing a corpse actually, and it turns out it wasn't necessarily a corpse. It somehow spat venom onto my face." He seems uncomfortable. "I imagine it was venom because it started burning, but then I turned. And my green buddy smashed around."

I raise my eyebrow. "So it was a self-defence method?"

He nods. "Suppose."

I observe him contemplating if there is a chance of him lying. I will go with no, I do have to trust my patients telling me the truth after all. In Bruce's case I do not find it awfully hard to follow that therapy rule.

"That surely sounds reassuring. Did you turn back in this cell?"

"Yes. I hear I did not kill anyone."

I assure him he did not. I choose not to mention that the hospital wing is more crowded than usual this afternoon. "Come out of there, Bruce," I repeat.

He gives me a sweet smile but shakes his head. "Thanks for coming to see me, Stella."

"That's literally my job," I chuckle. "You say it was self-defence. So there is definitely no reason for you to try to save everyone else from him. He only comes when you need him to, doesn't he?" I ask ignoring his attempt to finish our session.

He titles his head to the side. "The only problem is, Stella, that it is him that determines when I need him."

"Are you saying you have no control over him?"

"I'm still trying to figure it out."

"Figure out what? How you two work exactly?"

"Yes."

I frown in concentration. "Perhaps you should experiment on it."

He blinks in surprise.

"I am serious. Here you could have safe conditions and a platform to discover what you are capable of." I smirk smugly at the way he's clearly thinking about his possibilities. "But of course before that you'll have to—"

"If you want to say I have to get out of here, don't," he cuts in. "I understood it for the first time as well."

"Right." I stand up. "Let me know if you are interested in the training. I'll ask around and see what we can do about it if you want."

"But first don't forget to write that report about me being able to go back to work."

I wink at him. "We'll see about that."


	15. Loki I

**Hi everyone, thanks for sticking around :) This chapter features a guest who makes Stella reconsider her career choices. Enjoy!**

* * *

When I see Phil Coulson waiting by my door when I return from lunch, I smile at him. "Hello, Phil. Tell me you guys found Thor for me."

"Something like that," Phil nods. But I can't believe my eyes when I see what is in the folder he hands to me.

* * *

 **File ID: 37638 - June 18, 2012**

 **Name: Loki Laufeyson**

 **Species: Frost Giant**

 **Date of birth: 965 A.D.**

 **Place of birth: Jotunheim**

 **Citizenship: Jotun, Asgardian**

 **Occupation: God of Mischief, Prince of Asgard**

 **Family status: Unknown**

 **Note: Convicted of multiple crimes - he is supposed to serve his sentence in Asgard**

 **He escaped and returned to Earth - circumstances are still under investigation**

I look at him and shake my head. "Loki is not an Avenger. I fail to see what I have to do with the fact that he's here."

Phil smiles ever so politely as he gestures for me to follow him down the corridor. "We believe he has information on Thor's whereabouts."

I raise my eyebrow. "Fine. Then get it out of him. I am a psychologist, not a detective."

"We never really got to discover Loki's personality and motivations. This is our only chance as Asgardian authorities have already been contacted. They might be here in any moment to collect him."

He stops in front of a huge door and looks at me sideways. "SHIELD appreciates your help, Miss Moon." He places his card against a censor on the door and it opens. "Oh, I almost forgot," he adds and hands me a small black gun.

I stare at him. "Are you serious?" I ask as I weigh the weapon on my palm. It fits perfectly.

"I know it doesn't look too dangerous, but believe me, it is. Only use it if absolutely necessary."

I keep looking at him. "No. I understand the concept of a gun being dangerous. But I am not a fighter, I can't—"

"You'll be fine." As the door opens I see a glass cell, similar to the one Bruce used, except for the books. And the guards. There are four of them standing around the cell with huge machine guns.

Loki sits in the cell and is seemingly highly entertained by a deck of cards in his hands. He shuffles them slowly and raises his gaze to meet mine. I feel goosebumps break on my skin and I turn my glance away.

"This won't be possible like this," I hear myself say. I wonder if it is my professional opinion or he bewitched me already. "I want the guards out. The patient-therapist relationship does not allow outsiders to be present at the session."

"It is not a typical session, Miss Moon," Coulson says.

I shrug. "I don't care, Mr Coulson." I still have the gun which now I clutch in my fist. There is no way I would be able to use it. I lack the skills, the reflexes and the will. "You want a therapist? Here I am. But we either do it my way or not at all. Your call. I will gladly leave if you prefer."

I turn around but he catches my upper arm. "Right. Alright. It's just you and Loki. If you need any assistance, use this," he says pointing at a little red button on the barrel of the gun he just gave me.

"I just want you to know that in this instant I am not impressed with SHIELD at all," I reply dryly.

"Duly noted," Phil nods and leaves with the four guards in tow.

I clear my throat and approach the cell. Loki seems almost innocent. He raises his hand showing me the cards. "Do you play, Miss Moon?"

"You know my name," I note. I shouldn't be surprised, really. This is Loki of Asgard, he probably reads minds as a hobby. He shrugs and looks at me questioningly.

"I do, sometimes," I reply. "But I am not here to play cards, Loki."

"Oh I know," he nods. "You monkeys lost Thor, hmm? The little minion thinks I know where he is and that you'll make me tell you?"

I press my lips together. "We did not lose Thor," I reply, although I am yet to meet Thor precisely because SHIELD does not have him on its radar. "You are supposed to be in Asgard. In a cell similar to this, I imagine."

"I was bored," he shrugs and turns back to the cards.

"So you left."

He looks around pointedly. "Obviously."

I sigh and sit on the floor. I miss my comfortable armchair back in the office where nobody seems to want to come to anymore. "You left quite a mess here in New York. Demolished half of the city."

He shrugs nonchalantly and a little irritated. "Your point?"

"I just don't understand why you would want to return to Earth after all that," I reply. "You have plenty of enemies here."

"Could you bring in Black Widow please?" he asks. "If you mewling fools want me to talk, at least you could have sent someone physically or at least mentally attractive."

I raise my eyebrow. "You know, you were on camera the whole time you spent on the Hellicarrier. I watched some of the footage."

He looks at me. "And? What did you think of me, Stella?"

I shrug. "That for the God of Mischief you looked quite grim. And for a trickster you got played real good."

He abruptly stands up. Actually I cannot see the movement, I just notice that he now stands at the wall of the cell staring at me. I keep my fear in check and return his stare with an icy glare, at least I damn hope I do.

He smiles. "Play with me."

"No."

"Why not?" He asks and I swear I can see him pout.

"Look, I don't have much time. I just want to talk."

"Oh, but how often do you get what you want in life, Stella?" Loki smirks.

"Speaking from experience?" I ask back.

"What are you talking about? I have everything I want." He's been playing with me ever since I walked through that door, I conclude as I look around his cell.

"You have a deck of cards, a cell and Asgardians coming to collect you, and I am certain you'll get a worse hole back there than the one you escaped from." I open my arms raising them slightly to indicate my confusion.

"Wrong," he says. "I have your complete attention. Just like SHIELD's."

I frown. This is not good. "What are your planning, Loki?" I ask.

He wiggles his index finger amusedly. "Oh no. This is definitely not how you speak with a god. With me, at least. Play with me and I might let you know one or two things."

I groan.

"Oh sorry, are you so annoyed with your patient?" he asks with the smile of somebody who owns the world.

"I have a gun, you know," I reply. But he does not care about my gun. Smart. I am obviously no challenge for him.

"Then why do I frighten you so much?"

"Okay, will you cut this fake mind reading bullshit?" I snap.

He titles his head to the side. "Why, you don't like others diving into your mind?"

"I do not. It comes with my job," I answer. "I especially don't like trickster gods peeking into it. Especially not when it is not in my contract to have a session with them anyway."

He doesn't reply but raises the deck and spreads the cards. "Ideally you could pick one yourself, but I'll do it for you for now," he says. "If you ask nicely."

I resign to my fate. "Third one from the left," I shrug.

He picks the fifth one from the right. Obviously. He presses the card against the glass and I can see the Queen of spades. He puts it back in the deck and starts shuffling it.

"So this is the moment you tell me about your plans?" I ask.

"Oh. Sure," he nods. "I have many plans. One of them is that I am going to rule this pathetic planet. And I will probably have you SHIELD rats all murdered. You included, of course."

Contrary to what anyone might think about psychologists, I really hate getting death threats. But I have to stand my ground, so I just smile at him, hopefully coldly.

"You really have no concept on how to maintain a civil conversation, do you?"

"Do you?" Loki asks back. Before I could answer, he pulls a card out and shows it to me. It's the Ace of hearts.

"That's not it," I claim.

Loki smirks. "You don't understand, do you?" I frown as he continues. "It was never about the cards."

He is right. It was a trick. I knew it all along but it all dawns on me when he stands right in front of me. No glass between us this time. He grabs my hair and pulls me up. The gun is in my useless hand. I should press the button but I can't. I should press it against his stomach or head and pull the trigger, but I can't do that either. My fingers are frozen.

"Loki, you— please, if we could just talk it through," I plead, my voice barely audible through the drumming in my ears.

"You're a true shrink, huh? Can't say anything smart even though your life depends on it," he taunts.

The pressure eases on my scalp but in the next moment I fell on the ground. Loki is cursing next to me. I rub my aching elbow and notice he is entangled in a net. A net that is secured to the floor by several arrows.

"Where are you coming from?" I ask Clint Barton who stands above him with his bow and an arrow on it pointing at Loki's throat.

"From the vents," he answers simply still eyeing the god.

I finally press on the button on my gun and we hear sirens go off nearby. "Clint," I say softly getting up. "Stand down." His arm slightly trembles for a moment. "Clint," I repeat. "Please. Don't."

"What happened here?" I hear Coulson as he arrives with the four guards who now surround Loki. "Barton?" He asks softly placing his palm on Clint's shoulder. Noticing the slightly lowered bow Phil simply takes the weapon out of his hands before swinging it over his own shoulder.

Then he turns to me. "Miss Moon? Is everything alright?"

My lower lip tremble slightly and it is hard to speak through the lump in my throat.

"You should take this day off," Coulson coos as if I was a fragile kid. Which is not that far from reality, apparently, because I can barely manage a nod without bursting out crying before one of the guards steps next to me and walks me to the exit. He even hails me a cab which seems oddly attentive from the same company that just threw me to one of the most dangerous creatures this city has ever seen. "Tough day, eh? Sleep it off, you'll be over it sooner than you think," he smiles before closing the door of the car and waving me goodbye.

* * *

When I enter my little flat and drop my bag on the floor I am ready to fall into bed. But when go to the kitchen to drink a little water, I can't help the scream that escapes my lips. There it is, on the counter. A single card. The Queen of spades.


	16. Stella - Thor I

**Resignation Hearing ID 0631 - June 22, 2012**

 **Name: Stella Moon - ID T453**

 **Date of tendering resignation: June 20, 2012**

 **Reason(s) for tendering resignation:**

 **\- Thor never showed up**

 **\- Mr. Fury ignores my attempts at conducting any therapy session**

 **I was requested to have a session with Loki who almost murdered me**

 **Present at the hearing: Fury, Nicholas, Hill, Maria, Coulson, Philip, Moon, Stella**

 **N.F.** Now I understand why you feel shaken by the recent events, but there is absolutely no reason to quit. Are we done here?

 **S.M.** Sir, I don't think you see the issue. I almost died, I—

 **N.F.** But you did not. You were safe.

 **S.M.** I believe it is clear that agent Barton was present there against his orders. I hardly think sheer luck qualifies as a safe working environment. Or is it SHIELD's way to care for its employees? Hoping we won't die and paying something to our family when we do?

 **P.C.** Miss Moon, we accept that it was not a good decision on our part to send you in there.

 **S.M.** Sure, now that I want to quit you accept what I had been saying all along. How convenient.

 **N.F.** Stella, I'll be honest. We do not have the time and energy to find someone else to fill your role.

 **S.M.** That's flattering, sir, but—

 **N.F.** Furthermore the Avengers started to trust you already. We would like to keep that up. They are not the type that would just accept a new shrink at this point.

 **S.M.** I understand, sir. But you also have to understand that I am not a spy, not an agent, not a fighter. Yesterday I was really scared. And that card when I got home…

 **P.C.** Miss Moon, we checked the apartment all around. It's all clear.

 **N.F.** It's Loki. He likes to be dramatic.

 **S.M.** Sir, I think you do not take me seriously. I want to quit. Tell me what my notice period is and after that I shall be on my way.

 **N.F.** Stella, I will not accept your resignation. So now that we are clear about that, what if you tell us what you need to continue your work with us? So we can move on.

 **S.M.** I don't think—

 **N.F.** We get Thor. Just for you.

 **S.M.** Thor is coming here to collect Loki.

 **N.F.** Right. But we'll make a deal with him so you can talk to him. A session if you like. What else?

 **S.M.** You, sir. Once a week. I have nothing to report on you. I need something or I'll get fired. That means we'll be in the same situation as right now but I won't have a recommendation letter. I need you to cooperate with me.

 **M.H.** Sir?

 **N.F.** Alright. Alright. One session per month. That's what I can offer. What else?

 **S.M.** As I said, my main problem is that I don't feel safe. What happened was scary and there is still no indication it would not happen again if I continued working here.

 **P.C.** This is a valid concern, Miss Moon.

 **S.M.** Thank you.

 **N.F.** Exactly.

 **S.M.** I'm glad you understand. I can't—

 **N.F.** Yes, I do understand. You'll have to train.

 **S.M.** I— what?!

 **N.F.** You'll get basic SHIELD training. Say, every Tuesday and Thursday evening? We have the best coaches. It'll help in your everyday life as well. You'll feel safe this way.

 **S.M.** But I am not a fighter.

 **N.F.** Not yet, Stella. As I said, our trainers here are marvellous. Hill?

 **M.H.** I'll schedule the training for next Tuesday.

 **N.F.** Great. So is that all? I formally reject your resignation. Are we clear?

 **S.M.** Yes sir.

 **N.F.** Perfect. You are dismissed.

* * *

 **File ID: 42016 - June 23, 2012**

 **Name: Thor Odinson**

 **Species: Asgardian**

 **Date of birth: 964 A.D.**

 **Place of birth: Asgard**

 **Citizenship: Asgardian**

 **Occupation: God of Thunder, Prince of Asgard**

 **Family status: It's complicated - (former?) love interest: Dr. Jane Foster**

So here I am on a Saturday afternoon in my office with Thor on the couch and his hammer on the little, fragile coffee table. Fury didn't accept my resignation and clearly decided that my usual working hours can be modified to his liking as well.

"Are you sure it won't break my table?" I ask pointing at the hammer.

"Well, you can always try to move it," Thor winks. He seems relaxed which is great since he is here to pick up his mischievous brother who escaped his prison in Asgard.

"Very funny," I respond. It makes him smile wider. He motions towards the hammer.

"Go on, Stella Moon," he says.

"But just so we are clear, if I do lift your hammer, I'll quit this job and move to Asgard."

"We would welcome you there, just like any lady warrior," Thor nodded.

"I am not a warrior," I reply as I stand up and grab the handle of the hammer. It doesn't move as I try to lift it.

"It happens to the best," Thor smiles.

"Right. Can you move it, please?" I repeat and he finally does as I ask.

"Perfect. Thor, I am really grateful that you squeezed in a session with me today. Can I by any chance count you in for further—"

"Look, Stella, I am here to take Loki back to Asgard. I am sorry about what happened, you know he is… well, he likes tricking people. But he is not that bad."

"Hundreds died during his little New York trip. I wonder what you would consider bad."

Thor crosses his arms clearly not impressed with my remark. "I am not saying he doesn't have problems, just that he is not that bad."

"Did you agree with his sentence?" I ask wondering if Thor had anything to do with Loki getting out of his prison.

He shrugs. "I think it is good to have him where we can see him. For his safety."

"Do you think he is in danger? He seems pretty powerful to me."

He smiles at me in a way that one would at a child who doesn't understand the hard reality of the world around them. "Stella, I know you got scared of him, but weak mortals like yourself can confuse a truly powerful god and a trickster."

"I am not sure what you mean, Thor. Are you saying your brother is weak compared to other gods? Do I get it correctly that he broke out of an Asgardian prison designed, built and guarded by Asgardians?"

He shifts slightly. "Yes," he finally says. As I keep looking at him confused, he sighs and continues. "Look, it's hard to explain if you don't know our world. The point is that Loki is my little brother and I want to protect him because I know he would do the same."

"Really? He didn't seem to actually want to protect you. According to the reports he actually dropped you off the Helicarrier in a glass box."

"He must have known I would survive it."

It is surely an interesting experience to see Thor defend his brother so fiercely knowing what I know about Loki. I wonder how he would feel hearing Thor's words about him.

"Alright. So would you be able to return to further sessions with a sort of regularity? I am convinced it would be highly beneficial for you."

He frowns. "I don't really see the point," he admits. "I heard from Barton and Banner that you are not such an innocent lady when it comes to this," he vaguely motions around.

"Then why did you agree to come and talk to me?"

"I would never miss the chance to entertain female warriors. I highly respect them."

"You were obviously misinformed. As I said, I am no warrior." Thor just smiles. "Talking about ladies, you apparently got in a close relationship with a physicist named Dr. Jane Foster."

"Apparently? Who told you about that?"

"I read about it. Every one of you have files on them. A collection of reports and information SHIELD knows about an agent," I explain further.

"Jane is my friend, you can tell that to anyone who likes digging where they shouldn't."

"I am only asking because before meeting her you were determined to kill off a a whole nation and break the peace treaty your father had made with them. But after you met her…"

"Hey," he interjects raising his hands. "I did not want to kill off a whole nation. I wanted to punish them for breaking into the palace."

"And break the peace treaty," I repeat.

"No. You don't understand," Thor hisses. "It was never about peace, they just accommodated my father so he would not execute them all. Peace is not some goods you can provide for something. Peace is a commitment. You cannot use it to cover up your atrocities. And it is certainly disgraceful to hide behind a treaty you accepted because you feared for your worthless life, isn't it?" He smirked. "But make no mistake about it, they never did intend to keep what they promised, Stella. If they had, they wouldn't have broken in, they wouldn't have waited for us when we went there to question them."

I sit in silence for a few seconds processing how wise Thor seems now talking about politics as opposed to his assertions about his brother. "Still, you didn't want to do any of that after spending some time on Earth," I repeat. "You never pursued that case after that, did you?"

He shrugs. "Meeting humans did change me. But it wasn't only Jane. It was the human species. They are so different."

"How so?"

"Well, they have about seventy years to live. Still they strive to make the most of it. Yes, they tend to get petty and argue over insignificant nothings, but in the next moment they can be generous and kind and honest."

"What about Asgardians?" I ask.

"It's all much slower for us. We feel we have time for everything. But then we lose someone and we realise we are captives of time just like everyone else."

"Do you think a lot about things like this?"

"I was raised to be the king of my people. I learned a lot of things but found that it is way more interesting to come up with my own thoughts about them." He smiles at me, perfectly oblivious to my amazement, and stands up. "Stella Moon, it was a delight to talk to you, but now if you excuse me I have to go and get Loki back to safety."

I don't bother to mention to him that Loki is the one who poses danger not the other way around. He probably wouldn't understand it anyway.


	17. Steve - Tony - Natasha part I

**Hi everyone, thank you for the interest in the story! :) This is a long one that I had to cut in two, so we're having a coffee break at half of the session.**

* * *

 **File ID: 90472 - June 25, 2012**

 **Name: Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow**

 **Date of birth: November 22, 1984**

 **Place of birth: Soviet Union**

 **Citizenship: Soviet, Russian, American**

 **Occupation: Spy**

 **Family status: Single**

* * *

 **File ID: 58123 - June 25, 2012**

 **Name: Steven Grant Rogers/Captain America**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: July 04, 1918**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Soldier**

 **Family status: Single**

* * *

 **File ID: 81310 - June 25, 2012**

 **Name: Anthony Edward Stark/Iron Man**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: May 05, 1970**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Consultant, SHIELD**

 **Family status: In a relationship**

* * *

I hand two files back to Coulson. "I only have a session with Romanoff, thank you," I say. Before he could reply I enter my office. Natasha, Tony and Steve sit on my couch looking exhausted and mightily pissed off.

"Just a moment," I smile as I back out and close the door. "What is this?" I ask Coulson.

"Something went wrong during the mission."

"Yes, I know. Rogers got compromised. I remember."

"No," he explains. "Something went wrong during the rescue mission." I raise my eyebrow. I swear I know what's coming now. I was an idiot letting Fury refuse my resignation.

"Give me the mission report then."

He shakes his head. "We don't have it. They don't speak."

I roll my eyes. I call bullshit. "Every time the Avengers return to SHIELD they immediately have to submit a mission report. That's the protocol. We both know it, Phil. So if you guys want me to give you anything useful, you have to give me something first. Where is that damn report?"

"It's classified, for one, and it does not contain anything about the apparent conflict."

"What conflict?" I ask. It's 9:30am on a Monday and I am so tired already.

"Romanoff, Stark and Rogers were collected in Moscow Saturday evening. STRIKE Team Tango was responsible for picking them up. They decided to cuff Rogers and Stark because they were in such a heated argument the leader of the team worried they might jump on each other."

I stare at Coulson. "Is there any chance the leader overreacted?"

"Hardly. We have AV recordings. I would have done the same." I rub my forehead.

"What about Romanoff?"

"She doesn't engage in the drama. She and Barton have been spending all their time together since she got back."

"Did you ask Barton then? Natasha probably told him everything already."

The look he gives me is rather amused. "Yeah, because Barton gives out any info on her ever."

"I thought you two were friends," I remark innocently.

"Not when it comes to her precious Widow." He sounds bitter, but I don't have the time to think about that right now.

"What is it you want me to do exactly? Besides wasting a whole session with Natasha?" I ask.

"I want my team back."

I raise my eyebrow. "Is that all or should I have them make friendship bracelets too?" He doesn't reply. Amazing.

"I just want you to know that—"

"You don't particularly like your company at the moment?"

"Something like that."

"Duly noted. Good luck." Phil does not move until I enter the office again.

* * *

This time Natasha sits between the two men which could mean there was an argument while I was out with Coulson. I smile at them which only Romanoff returns. Great.

"I apologise," I say taking my place in my beloved armchair. "There was some complications with the session. Just like with your mission, I hear." None of them answer.

I take a moment to look at them closely. Natasha is unscathed except for a busted lip and seems relaxed. Steve has a bandage over his right shoulder and a deep cut on his left cheek. It runs down on his neck too. Tony has a weirdly swollen looking nose and a black-eye as well. He wears flip-flops and his left ankle is in a brace.

I sigh and pinch my nose between my index finger and thumb. It is going to be a long session. "At least you were all tended to, right?" They are still silent. How wonderful. "Guys, this is a yes/no question. Can we at least pretend to try to achieve something here?"

"Yes," Steve finally replies.

I nod. "Great. Now Steve, tell me about that mission. I understand you got compromised."

He shrugs. "I did. There were already twelve people in the warehouse when I got there."

"So SHIELD didn't know about the dozen Russian criminals waiting for you when they sent you in?" I ask. I know as much about the company's operations that it seems unlikely. They usually know what you eat for breakfast before you even get hungry.

Steve opens his mouth but Tony snorts so he doesn't say anything. Natasha looks at him amusedly. "Tell her, Cap."

Steve takes a deep breath. I realise he is going to tell me the truth. Finally, after weeks and weeks of uncertainty this is literally my first therapy session during which I am sure my patients will be honest with me. Solely because the other two want to hear the story as it is for fun and won't let the third one get away with anything. Perhaps the idea of group sessions is not even that bad.

Steve clears his throat. "I might have started the mission without waiting for the security scan." He looks embarrassed but Natasha is clearly having the time of her life.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I get what you're—"

"He barged in that damn warehouse without making sure there aren't a dozen angry Russian spies waiting for him. Surprisingly there were," Tony cuts in. His sarcasm is well perceivable.

I can feel my jaw drop hearing about such a stupid move and Steve's face gets… is that blush creeping on his cheeks? He shifts on the couch and takes over the story again. "I went in, I got captured, but I was totally in control. I am telling you Stella, it would have gone all so much easier without Stark's interference."

"I'm sorry, what?" Tony snaps. "I was sure I just saved your bloody life, Rogers. _Interference_ is not the expression you're looking for. _Thank you_ is."

"Right. Thank you for blowing my whole mission. Thanks for making all of it about you once again. And I'll be eternally grateful for every time you had to rub it in my face."

"Well, I should have not flown to Moscow in the first place to save your ass if you hadn't been such an idiot to disregard vital information you would have obtained easily had you waited five more seconds, Rogers, for God's sake."

Tony stands up at the end of the sentence which quickly results in Natasha and Steve doing the same. It's interesting to see how Natasha always moves so she is between the two men. I wonder if she would partake in the fight if those two started one again.

"Alright, could you please just sit back?" I ask. Captain America and Iron Man staring down each other would be pretty intimidating if Loki hadn't scared me so much just a week ago. "Please. I hear you almost resorted to a fistfight to handle your conflicts back in Moscow. What happened there?"

Steve turns away first. He sits down and fixes his gaze on me. "I suppose you have never been caught by members of the Russian mafia before?"

I shake my head. "Never. You will have to walk me through it."

"May I," Natasha says when Steve is about to answer me placing her hand on his thigh for just a moment. He nods and sits back. Tony takes his place on her other side.

"Stella, I was kidnapped and held captive and tortured more times than I can count. They started it during the Red Room training, as part of the fun. I was taken in Paris, in Budapest, in Nairobi, in Saudi Arabia, in India, in Canada - yes, it happens even there -, also in Peru, just to name a few." Natasha doesn't seem upset talking about all this. Obviously for her getting kidnapped and tortured is just a regular Wednesday.

"But I digress," she adds. "My point is that as an expert on the topic and as a used-to-be-Russian person myself, It's one of the worst places to get captured in. Simply because Russian criminals don't care. They don't usually care about what you can offer them for freedom. They have either acquired it already and now just want to have fun and enjoy their dominance or they do need the information or whatever you possess, but letting you go in exchange never was an option in the first place."

I raise my eyebrow. "So if I understand correctly, you are saying Russian torture is pointless?"

"Pointless, endless, careless," Natasha nods. "They will hurt you without any concept with anything they can find until your body just gives up. You barely find actual people down in those basements, you see. They are machines."

"No," Steve says.

"Yes," Tony says at the same time. He huffs and rolls his eyes at Steve. "Captain, will you listen to the master assassin? They are machines. Cold, heartless, indifferent."

"No," Steve repeats. "They are people. At least some of them."

I feel this conversation drain me already. Group sessions might not work very well after all. "What happened, Steve?" I repeat the question.

He takes a deep breath. "Well, Romanoff is right. When they caught me they were totally open about wanting to kill me for their entertainment, even though at this point I could have been just someone accidentally entering the warehouse."

"Didn't they know you are Captain America?" He narrows his eyes at me for a second.

"Course not. It was not that kind of a mission. No uniform, I didn't even take my shield."

I wonder why it wasn't Natasha or Clint sent on the mission, but I just motion to him to go on.

"They took me somewhere and started beating me while asking some questions but without actually being interested in the answers. Or so it seemed."

"Did they figure out your identity by that time?"

"Yes. They watched some videos of the New York battle." He pauses. "There was a young boy. He brought me food. He sometimes patched me up a little." He looks briefly at Tony's direction, but he just stares at his shoes.

"In ten or eleven days I managed to get a little more confident with him. I—" Steve pauses and only continues after taking a deep breath. "I could have convinced him to help me escape. I was this close," he says holding up his index and thumb almost touching. "And then Stark killed him."

In the deafening silence facing three deadly Avengers on my couch all I can think about is that I truly wish I could practice card tricks with Loki once again instead of being here right now.

* * *

 **So this is where the next chapter will pick up from. I will try my best to update it so fast it truly feels like a coffee break ;)**

 **P.S.: I have a friend to thank for the inspiration of this session, so thank you! :)**


	18. Steve - Tony - Natasha part II

**And here we are, back with part II. Thanks for everyone who still follows this story! :)**

* * *

Natasha looks pleased that this time she is a mere onlooker of the unfolding events. Steve is rather flustered but seems to keep control. Tony raises his gaze from his feet at me. I wait for him to speak. When he does, his tone is strangely low and distant.

"We killed all of them. That was the mission."

"So you followed your orders," I clarify. He nods curtly.

"Bullshit," Steve spits. "Tony Stark only follows the orders he wants to follow. And since nobody usually questions him when he does not, he had no reason to shoot."

"Well, you were held captive by one of the most dangerous organisations in Russia. It was your fault, by the way. I went there to rescue you and I did. If you want to talk about casualties, let's talk about casualties and tell us about all your unnecessary kills in the war, Cap."

Steve stands up again, followed by Natasha doing the same. She faces Steve placing a hand on his shoulder. "Steve, come on." She turns to look at Tony who still sits on the couch and carefully observes his nails. "Are you going to get in a freaking catfight over the mission? Because if so, I am all for it, truly. I'll go and write fifty emails to notify everyone and bet all my savings. But you should do it somewhere else. And not right now. Let's just get over with this bloody session." It is official; Natasha has never showed up to this bloody session. She sent the Widow instead.

Steve sits back with a groan. "Kills I should have not committed don't matter when it comes to the ones you did and shouldn't have." His voice is surprisingly calm now.

I clear my throat. "So you are convinced you could have turned that man—"

"Boy, rather," Steve cuts in.

"Oh come on. He was part of the mafia. If that is not enough of a reason to call him a man I don't know what is," Tony huffs.

"He was still a kid," Steve counters stubbornly.

"Right, and Romanoff was just a little girl when she first killed someone, right?" Tony retorts glancing at Natasha. "Still she was meant to be taken out when she was still a teenager. Dangerous people are dangerous, no matter the age."

"The fact that the assassin SHIELD sent for me made a different call means everything to me, Stark," Natasha says quietly. "I am one of the best assets of SHIELD now."

"Are you saying I killed a possible Avenger?" Tony snaps.

"I am saying that you made a decision and now you have to take responsibility for it," she answers.

"Alright," I start again as Tony stays silent. "Steve, do you think you could have escaped with the help of this… individual and got away far enough without him telling on you? I mean if Natasha is correct his mates probably would have started torturing him for information right away. He would have probably told them about your whereabouts and ended up killed for helping you while you might have been captured again."

"Would have, could have, might have," Steve shrugs. "This is one possible way, yes, but we'll never know. I might have been able to take him with me."

"You only talk about possibilities as well," I point out. He frowns at me.

"Tony, did you notice anything that indicated that this person was not dangerous to Steve or could be turned or—"

"No," he says. "I did what my best judgement indicated."

"You said you followed your orders," I remark.

"As Rogers said, I only follow them when they are similar to my ideas." I take a deep breath before continuing. Tony did kind of lie to me. There goes my theory about the Sincere Session.

"Steve, in a reversed situation, do you think you would have stopped to think before shooting?" I ask.

Steve shrugs. "I don't know, Stella. All I know is that murdering anyone should never come easily. And if we have a chance to reduce that count, we should."

"Moving words, Captain. What a pity the world does not work like that," Tony responds.

"Well aren't you the one priding yourself in always striving to change this world for the better?" Steve asks.

I can see Tony remains speechless. He diverts his gaze from mine once again choosing to stare at his feet. I can also see that this conflict will not be resolved even if we sit here all day. "Okay, thank you for your cooperation today," I say. "I am sure you have a lot to take care of now that you are back. I hope we'll be able to have another session together." They look at me in a way that clearly shows they hope for the opposite.

"Natasha, could you please stay for a moment?" I add as they make their way to the door. She rolls her eyes but sits back on the couch.

"How did it happen exactly?" I prod. "Were you there too?"

She nods slowly. "Are you going to include this in the report?"

"Yes. In the classified report. They won't know you told me."

"They already do."

I raise my eyebrow. "Natasha, I want to help. It seems this mission was way too messy and some people are worried that it will negatively affect the team."

"Well, at least those people will learn that they have to send Barton with me to rescue missions of this kind. But no, they had to choose the guy who once literally looked into seventeen cameras stating that he is Iron Man. This was a job for spies."

"Tony said the mission was about killing all the capturers off."

"Yes. If it had been a mission given to Team Delta, I'm telling you we would have done it without shedding a drop of blood if we had wanted to. Going in, getting Steve out, waiting for getting picked up. Easy. We have done that a hundred times."

"So what happened this time?"

She sighs in irritation. "We finally reached the basement. Steve was held in a cell that actually had two guards in front of it. Now I don't want you to believe I am holding a grudge against Fury or Coulson, but two guards means they damn well knew it."

"Knew what?"

"That we're coming, Stella. Stay with me, will you?" She asks amusedly with a smirk. "If it had been Clint with me, there would have been no guards is all I'm saying."

"Fair enough," I nod. It seems Natasha had an equally hard time without Barton as he did without her.

"I took out one of them, Steve was shouting and Stark took out the other. The one who Steve warmed up to." She pauses for a moment, thinking. "It turned out later he shouted at us not to kill the boy. But how were we supposed to know that, right?"

I hum and nod. "Thank you. For the information." She smiles. It is still the Black Widow. I can see she measure me as if to determine if I am interesting enough for her to bite.

"Are you alright? It seems you are not really shattered by the events of the mission."

She looks at me raising her eyebrow. "Are you saying I don't have a heart?"

"I—"

"Because if so, thank you for finally admitting what I've been saying all this time. This was a job and the only feeling I have about it is resentment for not having been able to do it better because of the conditions I was given."

"You said you don't hold a grudge."

She shrugs nonchalantly. "Perhaps I do in the end."

"Because agent Barton was not sent out with you?"

Natasha stands up. "Have a nice week, Miss Moon. I take it this counts as my session?"

"You can't avoid the topic forever, you know," I remark. "Not to mention it would probably help if you talked about him. At least a little."

"Why would I? You got a lot of stories out of him already. And by the way, I did not want him to kill me that day. That's all in his head."

"So you were just bested by Hawkeye?"

She sucks in a breath. She either has to admit now that she could be outsmarted and defeated or that she was willing to die that day in Warsaw. But she does neither. Obviously. "It was a pleasure as always, Stella." She leaves with quick but even steps.

* * *

"Yeah, that's great. So you didn't achieve anything?" Coulson asks when I bring the reports in his office and fill him in.

"Excuse me?" I snap. "If it weren't for me, your classified files would still say _Tony and Steve in a beef._ Now you have the details. You are welcome."

He sighs and nods. "Alright, alright. Okay, you did great. Thanks." He waits for a moment looking at me expectantly. "So?"

"So what?"

"What is your solution?"

"I'm sorry? It would take weeks and weeks of therapy to get them to the level where—"

"You get two days." I stare at Phil in disbelief.

"Mr Coulson, could you please show a person in this building who understands what psychologists are? I would rather talk to them."

"Miss Moon, Director Fury is getting frustrated with the turn of events. Anything could happen and we have to stand by with a fully operational teams. Not in weeks. Now."

"It's not my job to come up with wild ideas to resolve a conflict that you have no time for," I retort.

"Make it yours then."

* * *

 **From: Philip Coulson**

 **To: Stella Moon**

 **Date: June 27, 2012**

 **Subject: Re: Idea for conflict resolution**

 **Are you sure this will work?**

* * *

 **From: Stella Moon**

 **To: Philip Coulson**

 **Date: June 27, 2012**

 **Subject: Re: Idea for conflict resolution**

 **No.**


	19. Stella - Steve - Tony I

**File ID TR08755 - June 28, 2012 5pm**

 **Trainer: Cameron Stacks ID TR374**

 **Trainee: Stella Moon ID T453**

 **Reason for requesting training: Miss Moon doesn't feel safe enough in her current work environment**

 **Training plan: Learning basic self defence mechanisms and building stamina**

* * *

I don't want to do this. I really don't. But at 4:45pm I walk down to the gym and change into grey sweatpants, an uncomfortable sports bra and a white tank top.

The trainer waits for me at the entrance of the huge training room and stretches his arm towards me. "Stella Moon? I'm Cameron Stacks. I'll be your coach."

The man is from another world. He has the thickest arms I've ever seen (except for Thor's), long black hair that he tied up in a pony tail and a well kept beard.

"I am still not sure about all of this, Mr Stacks," I admit as I shake his hand.

"Call me Cameron. It'll be alright I'm sure," he says with a kind smile. I wonder why Tony never mentioned this guy when he took up the boyfriend-for-Stella project.

He leads me to a mat at the back of the room and I drop my bag on the bench nearby.

"We start easy, Stella, okay?" Cameron smiles. "Just some basic tricks."

"If you say so," I nod.

After a quick warmup he steps in front of me and raises his arms with open palms. "Now give me a punch."

I raise my eyebrow. He nods in encouragement. Well, I really don't need Fury or Hill to come and check if I take the training seriously enough so I pull my right hand back and punch into his right palm. He is polite enough not to remark on the fact that the momentum had me stumble forward and I have to grab his shoulder to gain back my balance.

Cameron waits until I step back into position. "Not bad," he says with a kind smile. He gives me more and more instructions and I spend the next half an hour punching his palms and blocking his punches.

"See, I told you it'd be a piece of cake," he says as I stop to catch my breath.

"Yeah, I just need a moment," I pant slightly and turn to go back to the bench where my water bottle is. But someone occupies my bench. Two people, to be precise.

"Not bad, Stella," Clint remarks. He wears his training clothes and has the bow in his hand.

"You lean forward too much when you hit with the left," Natasha adds. She wears a red tank top and black shorts. Her legs are so masterfully sculpted they almost distract me for a moment. I can even see the scar on her thigh that Clint had told me about.

"How long have you two been watching me?" I ask. They both shrug at the same time. "Right," I huff as I open my bottle and gulp half of the water.

"You know it is really not fair that you get to train with Cam. We should be able to have a session with you in exchange for yours with us," Natasha says. Clint chuckles. It's interesting to see how much more at ease they are when together. The brooding assassins are having a laugh at the gym at their therapist's expense. Hilarious.

"You are welcome to take over, Romanoff," Cameron calls.

"No she is not," I counter.

"Are you afraid of me, Miss Moon?" Natasha smirks.

"In the training room? Definitely. I've heard you can kill like sixty ways without using any tools."

"More like eighty-two," Clint remarks.

"Thanks, that helps a lot," I growl. "Now excuse me, but someone has to get to work."

* * *

In less than five minutes my training is interrupted again. This time it is by Tony's rather upset yelling. "Moon!"

The whole room goes silent as Tony Stark barges in followed by a silently boiling Steve Rogers. They are not together because they managed to resolve the conflict over the dead Russian guard. They are together because when Coulson asked me about the possible solution to said conflict, I might have panicked a little. So now Tony's right wrist is attached to Steve's left wrist with a pair of thin and, may I add, elegant Vibranium handcuffs. That's what happens when the therapist can't work at her own pace.

They march past the boxing ring towards my mat. I glance at Cameron who shrugs slightly. I can't decipher if it means he'll take a bullet for me or that I am on my own. Clint and Natasha stand up and step closer but it's still not clear what their objective is. Probably just wanting the best seats for the drama.

"I am not proud of it," I quickly clarify. Tony and Steve arrive at the mat. "I'm really not. But since you didn't seem to be on talking terms—"

"And we have a bloody good reason for that!" Tony shouts. There is absolutely no need for it because there are at least twenty-five people in the training area and they are all silent. His voice echoes on the walls. It makes me shiver a little.

"Then you should start working on having it taken off," I advise quietly.

Tony steps forward making Clint and Natasha move between us which I appreciate. I wonder if Clint made it a project to protect me after the Loki incident. I will ask at our next session although I doubt he would admit it if that's the case.

But their protection is not needed because Steve simply pulls back his left hand and Tony with it. "I think Stark is trying to say that we don't really appreciate the course of events, especially given the list we have to complete before we can take this thing off."

"The list?" Natasha asks. She's truly amused. At least one person enjoys the cuffs.

Tony pulls out his phone. "Jarvis." The email appears in the air through the phone's projection and the AI assistant starts to read it all aloud.

* * *

 **From: Phillip Coulson**

 **To: Steven Rogers, Anthony Stark**

 **Cc.: Nicholas Fury, Maria Hill**

 **Date: June 27, 2012**

 **Subject: Handcuffs**

Dear Mr Rogers and Mr Stark,

We received your complaints regarding our solution for getting the Avengers team back together, but I assure you it was a decision in agreement with your therapist and we have every reason to believe it will turn out effective.

Regarding the process of the removal, please take a look at the list provided below. If you complete every entry on this list, we will be happy to take the handcuffs off.

Complete the special training in the training area (with the practice robots)

Conclude a negotiation with the mayor of Arkala, a little village in India (In short, SHIELD used to have a warehouse here with weapons and equipment we wanted to keep in secret. A Japanese group tried to destroy it and the whole village with it. The leaders say they don't have any of SHIELD's possessions but we have good reasons to think they do. Get them back.)

Cook dinner for the Avengers team (the kitchens in the tower are fully equipped but rather used)

If you have questions, please contact me or Agent Hill.

Best regards,

Phil Coulson

P.S.: The handcuffs are made of Vibranium and the lock requires three different fingerprints and a key. I do not advise you to hit it with the shield as the vibration caused by the contact from such a proximity might harm you two.

* * *

I stare at the pair in dumb shock after Jarvis stops talking. There is no way in hell they will get those handcuffs off.

"I understand you are upset, but I swear that list is not my doing. I am only responsible for the basic idea."

"You've done enough," Tony hisses. He steps forward again and this time Steve follows him. "Do something."

"Perhaps I could schedule a training session for you. To get it over with," I offer. Tony growls.

Natasha looks over the two Avengers. "Does Pepper know?"

Tony shakes his head. "She's on a business trip. Gets back in two weeks."

"There's your deadline then," Natasha suggests. "Knowing how stubborn Fury and Coulson tend to be, I'd start with the training."

"And I can't wait for that dinner," Clint adds with a mischievous grin. Tony moves towards him and he raises the bow in his hand but it is not truly threatening as it doesn't have an arrow in it. It's just an instinctive move.

As the two try to stare each other down I decide it is time for me to intervene. I step out from behind the spies and in front of Tony and Steve. "I apologise for the inconvenience. I did suggest therapy together for a couple of months but your boss wasn't having it. They say you have to be on alert constantly and don't have time to resolve conflicts at a normal pace." They both glare at me so I clear my throat and go on. "On the other hand we've seen before that when you work together you can get amazing results. So if any agents cuffed together are able to complete that list, it's you two."

"We would get out of that shit by afternoon," Natasha whispers to Barton behind my back.

"It goes without saying," Clint whispers back. I hope Tony and Steve couldn't hear it, but obviously the supersoldier has enhanced hearing. He smirks and shakes his head to himself. Well, at least one of the two can take this debacle a little lighter.

"I hope that means we are exempt from the therapy for the next weeks," Tony finally responds.

"Of course you are. The cuffs are your therapist now. You can give me a review later on which one of us you preferred," I add.

"There is no doubt about that," Tony nods with a cold smile.

Well, if I gained anything from the argument it is that Cameron lets me go early. That's something.

* * *

 **From: Phillip Coulson**

 **To: Stella Moon**

 **Date: June 29, 2012**

 **Subject: Handcuffs**

Dear Miss Moon,

I hope you find no problem with monitoring the handcuff-project and write the reports on it for us. I know it will be a lot of plus work but you will get a two-week vacation (paid, of course) in exchange after the handcuffs are removed.

Thank you for your help in advance.

Best regards,

Phil


	20. Stella - Steve - Tony II

**Sorry for the slow update, but here we go, trying to get rid of the handcuffs with the assistance of a very frustrated psychologist :) Hope you'll enjoy it!**

* * *

 **File ID HC034812 - Handcuff-project**

 **Date: July 02, 2012**

 **Participants: Tony Stark/Iron Man, Steve Rogers/Captain America**

 **Supervisor: Stella Moon - ID T453**

 **Task #01 - Robots**

"And again," Steve repeats while Tony stands back up. It is the fifth tentative with the practice robots today. Tony has a bruise on his jaw but Steve appears as spotless as he was when he stepped into the ring.

I sit on a bench near them jotting down notes on their performance. It is less than ideal. They don't cooperate at all. They are cuffed together and they make this a competition too.

Tony has his suit on except for the gauntlet on his right hand while Steve is in his uniform without the glove on his left hand and with his shield. Two of Earth's mightiest heroes with their high-tech gear unable to defeat ten robots attacking them in pairs.

"I don't mean to interrupt," I say making them look at me. Tony rolls his eyes. "But you are aware that the robots are set in the easiest mode, right?"

"Is that your pep talk?" Tony asks raising his eyebrow. "Thank you. So inspiring."

"No. I don't think you need a pep talk. You do however need to at least try to work together."

"What do you think we're doing?" Steve asks.

"Honestly? Making a competition out of this," I respond. They glare at me which would have been a pretty scary thing a month ago. Now I stay unfazed. "Do you remember the whole Loki debacle? When you first caught him in Germany?" Tony huffs and Steve nods. "You did it because you worked together."

"I would have taken care of him just fine," Steve remarks making Tony chuckle sourly.

"Right. I suppose it is just a coincidence that he surrendered to me in the moment I appeared."

"Oh really? And where were you before that? Not in the Avengers team. _Textbook narcissism_ , huh?" Steve mocks. I read the assessment Natasha wrote on Tony Stark. Steve however didn't seem the kind that liked reports.

"I still had to join because Mr Supersoldier with the shining shield was not enough."

"Okay, this is what I am talking about, see?" I ask as I stand and walk to the ring. "You are supposed to beat at least six robots in pro mode. Preferably before Pepper returns. Is that correct?" Tony grumbles something that I take as a yes. "Okay. Now try again."

The robots get activated again. Here we go. Tentative number six. I step back from the ring and watch as the two robots fly over it. Before they could land Tony shoots one off. The other heads towards Steve who quickly strikes at it with the shield. Both robots are taken out and it only took seven seconds.

"This is multimillion-dollar tech," Tony remarks. The robot program was funded by SHIELD, not Stark Industries, which is probably fortunate because if it was Tony's tech that they were required to destroy in order to get out of the handcuffs we would not hear the end of it.

"See? See what happens if you stop being children for seven seconds?" I ask. "Now you have to do the same with the pro bots. Six times. And we're there."

But we are obviously not there. The pro bots are calibrated to force the participants to work together. Even if Steve and Tony can take them down separately, they fail miserably when they are supposed to cooperate.

"You know what? That's it," I say as I stand up from the bench and collect my bag.

"I thought you are supposed to monitor our progress," Steve remarks.

"Yeah, based on the premise that you make any kind of progress. Which you clearly don't. So I am not going to waste more time on trying to explain to the soldier and the man with god knows how many PhDs that working together against bad guys is beneficial," I huff. "And may I remind you that it is not even the only task you are expected to accomplish. Will you be able to make scrambled eggs without setting the kitchen on fire?" I ask without waiting for an answer.

I leave the gym and make my way to the kitchen. I need a coffee and a new job.

* * *

 **From: Phillip Coulson**

 **To: Stella Moon**

 **Date: July 03, 2012**

 **Subject: Re: Robots - lack of cooperation**

Dear Miss Moon,

I understand your issues and if there was anyone else who I deemed the right person to supervise the Handcuff-project and who weren't out doing field-work or otherwise busy, I would put them in charge. But unfortunately you are the only one I can trust with this.

Thank you for your cooperation.

Best regards,

Phil

P.S.: Yes, I know, you are not impressed with our company. Can I interest you in a dinner invitation to a fancy restaurant to reimburse you? It's on the company.

* * *

 **File ID HC034815 - Handcuff-project**

 **Date: July 04, 2012**

 **Participants: Tony Stark/Iron Man, Steve Rogers/Captain America**

 **Supervisor: Stella Moon - ID T453**

 **Task #02 - Negotiation**

"Are you still pissed off?" Tony asks as I sit down in the meeting room. The conference call is about to begin.

"I'm not sure," I respond. I still don't know if agent Coulson wants to take me on a date disguised as an attempt to warm me up to SHIELD or he really just wanted to make a gesture. "How did you do with the robots?"

Steve turns to look at me. "We got one. Turned out it was just one with a dying battery."

I can't help my snoring laughter. "I bet if they were Stark bots, there would be no batteries in them."

Tony looks unamused. "It goes without saying. Batteries belong to the previous century."

"Like me, is that so?" Steve asks. I frown and make a mental note to look into his tendencies to take Tony's remarks a little too personal.

Tony rolls his eyes and leaves the comment unanswered. Interesting. Did he realise he had to work together with Steve Rogers? Because if so, he came to that conclusion sooner than Steve. "Can we concentrate on this please? I want to get done at least one task."

Before we could answer there is a beep and another conference room appears on the screen. The men in the room, the mayor of Arkala and the village's leaders with him, can only see and hear Tony and Steve.

"Mr Stark, Mr Rogers." Vimal Kamur, the mayor starts. "We are honoured to talk to you but we can only repeat what we already said to Mr Fury and the others of your company. We do not have any of your weapons."

Tony seems to want to roll his eyes again but he manages not to. "Sir, with all due respect, we have read the reports."

"Then you must have read that your men came to see the ruins of the warehouse and found nothing."

"We've also read that there is a suspicion you're hiding the weapons and equipment somewhere."

"We are not."

And it goes on and on. They repeat the same things over and over again. After fifteen minutes of we-don't-have-it-yes-you-do Steve decides to help the businessman out.

"Sir, I am not sure if you are aware that SHIELD's policy is not negotiation."

"I can see that," the mayor responds. Tony tugs on the cuffs to prevent Steve from talking. The Captain doesn't notice it.

"What I am trying to say is that we have our suspicions and so far you failed to provide enough evidence for us to ignore them, even less to forget about them definitely. Which puts you on SHIELD's radar."

Sure, Tony perhaps is not the man for this job, but Steve is a soldier, not a negotiator. That becomes painfully obvious seeing the Indian men's faces. Tony tries to save face as the man on the mayor's right responds.

"Are you threatening us, Mr Rogers? Is that the way America treats its allies nowadays?"

"No, sir, this is certainly not a threat," Tony replies. "We do not wish to engage in any activity that might harm—"

"That's very kind of SHIELD after our whole village suffered for the deal they offered us," the man answers. Steve looks at his lap. Did he forget the part about the huge sum of money SHIELD paid for these people to let them store their stuff near their home?

The meeting soon wraps up and in the moment the screen goes black, Tony bites at Steve's neck.

"Who taught you how to behave in delicate diplomatic situations?" He asks frustratedly. "Could it be nobody? Because you don't know shit about it."

"Do you?" Steve retorts. "All you did was repeat the same thing."

"Because that's how it works!" Tony says raising his voice.

"It worked out just fine I see," Steve replies. Now would be a good time for either of them to storm off, but the handcuffs make that impossible, so all that remains is the icy silence. Task number two, tentative number one: complete and utter failure.


	21. Stella - Steve - Tony III

**Hi Everyone, thanks for still reading :) The handcuffs are about to come off.**

* * *

 **File ID HC034902 - Handcuff-project**

 **Date: July 09, 2012**

 **Participants: Tony Stark/Iron Man, Steve Rogers/Captain America**

 **Supervisor: Stella Moon - ID T453**

 **Task #03 - Dinner**

"So you are the unfortunate nanny?" Clint asks leaning against the counter with a granola bar in his hand.

I chuckle as I watch Steve scan through a cookbook pacing in front of the oven along with Tony who is talking to his AI. "It seems so. And you?"

He shrugs. "I got a free afternoon. And a bet."

"Romanoff?" I ask and he nods. Obviously. "You say they will make it and she that they won't?"

"Oh no. We know they will. The only question is the time."

"Twenty bucks say it will take more than a week from today," Natasha says walking in and snatching the granola bar from Clint.

"It won't last that long," I claim.

"Wanna bet?" Natasha asks.

I shake my head. "I am not sure it would be ethical. I kind of helped them get into this situation."

"Kind of, right," Tony calls without looking up from his phone.

"So what's the plan, guys?" I ask.

I glance at Clint who bites off a piece of the granola bar in Natasha's hand. They are so comfortable with each other as if they weren't cold, heartless master spies.

Steve looks up. "Steak."

"Such a creative choice," Clint says.

"Not for you. I'll have Jarvis order you pizza," Tony retorts.

"Hey, give me my steak, mate," Clint protests.

"Too late," Tony shrugs with a smirk.

I walk over to the two men hoping that finally we can cross out one item on that damned list.

Tony turns to me. "Great, give us a hand, will you? We'll need a list of how every one of you free people like your steak. Well done for you, I suppose?"

"Why, do you think I can't handle a little blood?" I ask almost offended. It would be easier if I didn't like my steak actually well done. He keeps looking at me in a rather funny way. "Medium," I decide knowing that I will regret that.

I complete the list in just five minutes with a phone call to Bruce, Fury's secretary, Coulson and Hill, and when I return to the boys, Steve peels potatoes and Tony chops up vegetables. They don't talk to each other.

"Will you tell me what happened?" I ask perching on a countertop.

"What do you mean?" Tony asks.

"I mean you are actually working together."

"And it surprises you because…?" I give Tony a look. He shrugs. "We came to a truce."

"No talking, no fighting, getting out of these," Steve adds clinking the chain of the handcuffs against the counter.

"Solid plan," I nod.

It was. And it worked. Ninety minutes later we sat around the table and I started cutting into my medium steak. I should have asked for well done. _Oh well._

"It's delicious gentlemen," Natasha says. "I guess Jarvis won't tell us where it is ordered from?" She teases.

"Very funny," Steve murmurs.

"I would say this handcuff-project didn't have a positive impact on your sense of humour," Natasha shrugs.

"It would be just nice to have a shower alone."

"Aren't you an army vet? I thought you're used to it," Clint chimes in.

"Let him be you guys," Bruce interjects. "They fixed a nice dinner and they are on their way to get them off."

"It's official. One of the three is completed," I nod. I hope it means they are on the right track to get done the other two as well.

* * *

 **File ID HC034820 - Handcuff-project**

 **Date: July 10, 2012**

 **Participants: Tony Stark/Iron Man, Steve Rogers/Captain America**

 **Supervisor: Stella Moon - ID T453**

 **Task #02 - Negotiation**

"Round two," Tony sighs as they sat down in the meeting room.

"I hope you have a strategy now," I remark. "Last time was a diplomatic catastrophe."

Tony nods. "We do. It is technically not a real negotiation but rather an offer they can't refuse."

"Are you planning to send them a horse head as well?" I ask.

Steve frowns for a moment but then smiles widely. Before he could say anything, Tony groans in annoyance.

"Good, you understood the reference. Now let's get to work."

As the meeting starts I am blown away. Steve starts asking if the leaders changed their mind. They did not.

"We understand why you don't want to hand the weapons and equipments over. We do," Steve says.

"Our only reason is that we do not have them," the mayor repeats for the umpteenth time.

"Yes, we know this is your statement. Now let's just pretend for a moment that you do have them," Steve responds easily. "In this case you might find it a good opportunity to sell them. You would get good money for them." He doesn't let them react. "Or you could use them in case of another attack."

Tony takes it over. "But there is nothing you have that could trigger another attack, right?"

The mayor clears his throat before answering. I can see the chain move between Steve and Tony which could only mean that they know they are on the right track. It also means they now communicate through the handcuffs which is rather funny all things considered.

"That is correct," Kamur finally says.

"That is great," Steve nods. "We'll tell you what your options would be in case you, hypothetically, would have those weapons. If you tried to sell them, your buyers would probably know where they came from, right? Unless you would sell them to ones who don't know anything about weapons. But that would be irresponsible, moreover, they wouldn't pay enough."

"Now keeping them for self-defence would be much more sensible and, well, morally acceptable. But the problem with that is that as we claim to know something you keep denying, others probably know about it as well. Which makes your city a target," Tony says.

"It _was_ a target," the mayor snaps. "Because of your bloody warehouse."

"And according to the reports you got reimbursed for that. You received the resources to rebuild the village, didn't you?" Steve asks.

The mayor nods uncomfortably.

"That's right. But this time SHIELD cannot take responsibility for something that it did not cause in the first place. I really hope you do not have those weapons because they will make your life so hard, sir," Tony sighs dramatically. I have to bite back a laugh.

"On the other hand it doesn't have to be like that. If you could just hand over the weapons and equipment we have, SHIELD, and more importantly, Stark Industries would make sure to protect the village and its surroundings from future unwanted company," Steve remarks.

"What would be your price?" Another man asks. Interesting. I almost believed they didn't have the weapons.

"We would require you to hand us over any terrorist who tries to attack the village," Tony replies.

"Is that all?"

"And the weapons and equipment you hypothetically possess at the moment," Steve adds.

They just won the game. The mayor mumbles something about having a look around and getting back to us.

When the screen goes black, I smile at the men. "You nailed it. You actually did it. Where did you hide your talent to work together so seamlessly?"

Steve smiles back. "We got drunk and had a real macho talk."

"We also made friendship bracelets," Tony says.

"Fine. You don't want to tell me. No need for sarcasm," I huff, but I am not angry. I am actually quite happy that they are working together.

"It's not like I can just turn it off," Tony shrugs.

* * *

"All the three?" Coulson asks when I storm into his office and drop the files on his desk.

"Yes. Why aren't you happier about it, Phil?" I ask frowning. "Were you in on the bet?"

"And just lost twenty bucks. But otherwise yes, of course I am happy. Good job."

"Don't you think it is unprofessional of you to place such a bet on those who are in this situation partly because of you?"

"Because of themselves. They are in that situation because they refused to work together after several warnings."

"Still," I reply stubbornly.

"Well, as you see I just got punished for that. So can you stop chastising me over it, please?" Phil asks. He reads through the files. "What about the robot fighting?"

"Oh, funny story. By the time I got to the gym there were only smashed robots on the ground around them."

"And you know it was them because…?"

"Because Jarvis played it back for me when I started pestering Tony about it." _Pester_ was his word, obviously.

"And Jarvis couldn't have manipulated the footage?"

"Damn, Phil, say goodbye to your money," I snap. "Have them do it again if you like. But I am out, okay? I did what you wanted from me. I want to get back to my work now please."

"Fine," he nods. "What about Monday? Are you free?"

I stare at him blankly.

"I promised you a dinner. For putting up with SHIELD. You've earned it." Oh. _That._

"Sure. Sounds great," I nod with a smile. I might have aged a decade in the last months but at least Director Fury pays for my caviar. What a job.


	22. Fury II - Stella

**Hello Everyone! Sorry for the long wait and thank you for following this story! I had to realise that it's about time to tell Stella and the guys goodbye. So this is a surprise Fury and the last chapter. Enjoy :)**

* * *

 **File ID: 15366 - July 26, 2012**

 **Name: Nicholas Joseph Fury**

 **Species: Human**

 **Date of birth: December 21, 1951**

 **Place of birth: United States of America**

 **Citizenship: American**

 **Occupation: Director of SHIELD**

 **Family status: —**

 **Note: This was not an official session but as close as I could ever get to one**

Cameron doesn't go easy on me anymore during the trainings. Every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon he pushes me harder than before. If I get the feeling that I know something, he makes sure to have me forget it. It's frustrating but Cameron is a sweetheart deep down which makes it real hard to be angry with him.

I wait until midnight to sneak down the kitchen for a little snack. It's certainly a perk of having moved into the tower. No rent and an infinite amount of snacks. After trainings I always have a hunger I find hard to control but most of the times I do, partly because I do not want to bump into anyone in the kitchen munching on a chocolate bar or a piece of cheese I found laying around.

I walk in and start seeing the kitchen is not empty. Director Fury sits by the table with a mug and some papers in front of him.

He looks up and smirks. "Miss Moon. How is the training going?"

No. He will not get the satisfaction to see that I am more than fed up with the training so I put on a charming smile. "Excellent, Director. It keeps my stamina up and I have learned a lot already."

He nods. "What about the sessions?"

I take a box of cookies out of the cupboard and sit across him. He reaches out and takes one.

"Well, what do you want to hear?" I ask. "Tony is still holding a grudge over the handcuffs. I am fairly certain Natasha is playing a game, the kind where I'm the mouse and she is the cat, Bruce decided he told me everything he could, Clint only talks until his coffee lasts and I asked Steve about Sergeant Barnes."

He raises his eyebrow. "Big mistake."

"Thanks for the heads up, sir. He hasn't returned to the session yet. I tried to talk to him at the gym but he didn't look quite… safe to approach."

He clears his throat as he sips from the mug.

"If you want to say you knew it beforehand, please don't," I say. "I am not here because it is a good idea, but because SHIELD's bosses want to feel they do something for their heroes."

"And it's not true?" He asks.

"I'm trying to live up to the expectations. But in the end we still have a group of heroes who are not willing to show me - or anyone - the person behind it all. Do you have any idea when I saw Natasha last time?"

He frowns. "Is this a trick question? You have sessions on Mondays."

"Yes. I have sessions with the Black Widow. Natasha never arrives."

He thinks for a moment before nodding slowly.

I try to use my chance wisely. Yeah, it is not a real session, but hey, we are here, we are alone and he _talks_ to me. I just have to jump on it. "And then there's you," I start.

Fury's expression is simultaneously annoyed, bored and intrigued. "What about me?"

"You are part of the team."

"I am their boss."

"Right." I stay silent as he grows visibly uncomfortable.

"I am not part of the arrangement. We even rewrote the contract."

"Yes, but how do you expect any of them to open up if all you do is rub my nose in the changed contract?"

"They have their orders."

"Right. But out of the six of them - or five if we don't count Thor who is not on the planet anyway - there is only one soldier. Then there's a scientist, someone who has difficulties to defeat his own ego and two spies who might or might not bend the orders."

He clicks his tongue. "What do you want from me, Miss Moon?"

I smile. "Hey, I just came for my well deserved post training snack." I even manage to shrug innocently. "You were the one to start a chat about the guys. You want to know everything but you don't give out the slightest of details."

"That's my job."

"To be a jerk?" I ask. It was probably not the wisest thing I could say to the head of a group of internationally recognised heroes and an ex spy/assassin/who-knows-into-what-kind-of-shady-business but I have been getting frustrated with Fury for months now. Ever since he kicked me out of his office when I attempted to have a session with him.

But by the time I tick off all my heels from the list of my possessions (they go to Maria and Natasha), he smiles. He actually smiles and even laughs a little. Then he shakes his head and takes another cookie from my box.

"Strictly speaking, no, that is probably not in my job description. To be a dick. But I am not fired yet, am I?"

"I suppose it wasn't an easy ride with the Council after you refused to launch that rocket."

"Oh no. Because I was right. They were livid that they gave that order. Even more so when they realised I remember it."

"I hope you got a raise then."

He grins. "I got more than that. They trust my judgement now."

"You must be proud. You put a team of superheroes together and helped them save the planet. I just wonder why you are still in the background."

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"I am just saying that most of the people involved in the initiative wouldn't pass up a chance to boast and bask in the glory of the victory in New York."

"We might have won but it wasn't easy to make people see it like that."

"But by now the negative voices are practically nonexistent. You could demand all that praise you deserve."

"I don't though," he shrugs. "I don't deserve any praise. That was just me doing my goddamn job."

I allow myself to smile. "Of course."

He raises his eyebrow. "What is it?" He asks. "Why don't you like my answer?"

I bite my lip. He is good. Well, he used to be a spy/assassin/who-knows-into-what-kind-of-shady-business so I guess that's normal from him.

"I am just wondering if you want to keep it that way. You watching everyone else from the shadow."

He smirks. "Why, because I don't agree to stupid interviews about the personal lives of my guys? There are enough gossipmongers in this town. I am not interested in being part of any of it. The Avengers are not a business."

I am slightly taken aback by the new perspective he presents. "Are you saying they are getting commercialised?"

"Are there little boys and girls running around in Cap t-shirts? Yes."

"How is it any different than boys and girls wearing faces of singers or actors on their shirts? It's called being famous," I counter.

"And when did you see soldiers get fans?"

"They are not soldiers."

He stops for a moment. "Damn right. They are superheroes. Which means they are much less practical than soldiers. Not to mention the two top agents I lost to fame."

I frown. "You put Natasha and Clint on the team."

"Yes. They were the best assets of SHIELD and now they excel at kicking alien ass. But Miss Moon, you have to understand, we spent time, money, resources on training them to be able to disappear in a moment. We lost that."

"Was it worth it?" I ask.

"Time will tell," he says. "And until that, I will stay in the background. Lurking in the shadow if you will."

I smile as he finishes with the drink and stands up. "I hope this little chat will stay off the files?" He asks.

I nod. "Obviously, sir."

* * *

I did keep it off the files… for six months. But then there was an internal evaluation and I needed to give them something, right?

* * *

I worked with the Avengers for another year. I like to think I achieved something. By the end of it Natasha didn't threaten me with anything and Tony forgave me for the cuffs. He called it a "humbling attempt that failed miserably". Clint's nightmares stopped, Bruce carefully and elaborately started a project that aims to discover the Hulk's skills and boundaries under safe circumstances. Thor came back to Earth for a couple of times. He was a sweetheart whenever he popped in for a session, though he rarely shared anything important with me. And Steve told me about Peggy and even Bucky. It seemed to relieve him, to share those old stories.

As for me, I learned a lot about myself and about this new world too. The one with aliens and gods that needs a couple of… challenging personalities to be safe. I was not too happy to leave but I received an offer for more money and less responsibilities. And one where I wasn't a target for international terrorists. After a long day having been kidnapped and waiting for the team to save my butt, it was the wise choice to take the offer.

But something good came out of it too. Phil Coulson asked me for lunch again as he had twice every month. But not on company money this time.

* * *

 **So that was it. Honestly there are many characters I (Stella) didn't have the chance to talk to, so I would say this is not the last time we see her. It depends on time, inspiration and requests. So do share with me any idea or secret wish or thought you have :)**


End file.
